


..::DEPTH OF FIELD::..

by RealityGlitch



Series: DEPTH OF FIELD [2]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Abuse, Alien Biology, Alien Culture, Alien Gender/Sexuality, Alien Technology, Angst, Cruelty, Curiosity, Drama, Emotions, F/M, FWUCollections, Fatherhood, Fear, Feelings, First Kiss, Fluff, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gore, Hope, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Injury Recovery, Jealousy, Loneliness, Love, M/M, Medical Procedures, Melancholy, Non-Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Rape/Non-con Elements, Revenge, Romance, Sensuality, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Tension, Sexuality, Surgery, Symbiotic Relationship, Telepathic Bond, Tension, Torture, Trauma, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-04-18 13:38:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 90,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14214312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RealityGlitch/pseuds/RealityGlitch
Summary: After many vorns since Soundwave had deleted his emotions from his core programming, his well organized, efficient and fairly simple life becomes dramatically disrupted by a sudden, unexplained return of the capability to have feelings and empathy. Unexpectedly he finds himself in a situation that he would not have imagined in his wildest dreams. At the same time, others also stop being indifferent and in reaction, a domino of inevitable consequences sets off...





	1. Trapped

**Author's Note:**

> Some more notes from my side, recognitions, and terms and explanations for those that don't know the lore are provided in [Chapter 19 (Notes and Glossary)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14214312/chapters/32769615).
> 
> Disclaimer: It is a fan fiction story and it uses (mostly) the existing universe of the Transformers Prime cartoon by Hasbro. While the plot and the text of the story is my creation, I do not own the rights to the characters themselves and any pre-existing elements of the Transformers lore that are copyrighted.

_I must be a ..::glitch::... An anomaly within the programming of life. A malfunction, but not as much as a virus, nothing intended, something just a little wrong, a mere bug, a misfit... Wherever I go things change like in a broken mirror and as I pass they seem to turn back to normal. Or not. I seem to leave a trace kicking things out of their tracks. Not intentionally. Sometimes I just flicker in the corner of the eye and annoy those who reach me in the walkthrough of their own games. Some try to get to me, fix me or deactivate me but no-one gets to the bottom. No-one cuts really through. But some manage to scratch the surface and it hurts, oh it hurts, but perversely, it comforts too._

_I’m said to be the oldest of the living old, I have been almost everywhere I have seen almost everything but I don’t understand really too much… In every bit of my body there is a piece of memory embedded collecting isolated bits and pieces of what I encounter. My multithreaded processor network performs massive analyses and calculations in the speed of light but at times parts of me freeze in a monotonous loop as if of an entangled data overload. It feels like one part of me is left twitching in place while the rest is trying to move ahead pinned by the affected component. It makes me restless._

_My random access memory capacity is vast, like an enormous highway to channel the processing power, but it suffers from compatibility issues, not fully following the algorithms that the processors are inclined to process, but choosing on its own what fits and what is to be thrashed to oblivion. My hard drives are horribly fragmented, I need to jump between my memory banks to put together all the pieces of the puzzle everytime I try to *think* and *remember*, and although I do it quick, quicker than anybody else, it never seems sufficient and it gets me tired._

_So I get random processes and processor threads execute themselves beyond my control. They agitate my spark and take away my attention. They strangle my energon cables and suffocate my processing power with somatic reactions of extreme stress. They glitch me and bend reality around me._  
_  
Some say these glitches are called *feelings*._

_I often feel like smashing this wrongful part of me and destroying it into pieces. I almost did that once and it almost killed me. It is like a trap and it mostly hurts. But perversely, it comforts too..._

_What were my creators thinking when they brought me to life like this?_

_So I am heavy armoured and well masked on my outside. It was supposed to shield me against the world but now it mostly shields the world from me. I like to think it was me who made this choice but it is just an elegant excuse from the haunting truth. I have found my refuge inside me and I do well pretending I’m not there while the masks speak for me and deal with the world, so that I do not have to. I tried to open up a number of times and say something myself but it always went sideways, getting hurt and reproaching dearly. And with time, more prosaically, I realized that nobody got too interested in depths beyond their own curiosity. It hit my ego, but I had to swallow. Maybe for the best. So I retreated to my outspoken silence. Not because I have to but because it’s the cheapest choice._

_I have routinised processes that drive me to be effective, efficient and productive. My body is a tool, a shell that serves me well, although there is still so much to master in order to reach perfection. I train it in hardships and simplicity. I push my outcome levels up to ensure sustainability of resources for the future. For survival. My life is overloaded with meaningless activity and there is hardly any space in me to know and execute what I really am._

_If I stop sometimes in a rare peaceful moment without the pressing compulsiveness to move forward, I come to feel that I might be fear and unfulfillment. And I am survival. The glitch I keep so dear within me pushes away memories of violence and hurt that I endured and that I caused. I reject their existence. I do not know joy but I do know about excitement. I also know loneliness and dedication. And determination. I still believe in a greater good that is possible to exist with some well calculated probability, and that can be brought by the hands and servos of living creatures. I sometimes feel it close at hand but my malfunction prevents me from transforming and reaching out for it. So I look out from within my hiding in wonder and feel my massive spark glitching._

_Will that be forever?  
_

* * *

****The third explosion was fatal. It blasted the remains of a collapsed abandoned mine corridor, tearing the underground passage apart and ripping a sufficient hole in the ground to swallow a multi-tonne monster. The stapling trashed like matchsticks under the crumbling stone weight. Fast moving rubble was tumbling down loudly into a dark deep pit, crashing rocks against one another, dragging a violet-blue metal bundle right into the freshly opened mouthpiece of the underworld. The curled up living creature was falling together with the rocks, her body hurt, torn, leaking, tumbling down with the stones, about to get smashed to the ground in a few seconds. Clutching at the moving walls in the whirlwind of chaos, her fingers failed her, defeated by the overwhelming force of gravity that dragged everything else down with her. Still, with the last of her life instinct, she tried to free herself before the final slash of pain and effort streamed through her receptors and everything went black.

He saw it all. Not from a safe distance, but from a lower corridor, a step away from being smashed himself by the falling rocks tumbling down to the abyss beyond his feet. He was looking at her demise, registering the life-or-death struggle. It all lasted maybe a nanosecond, but was sufficient for his system to generate proper calculations assuming probabilities, determining how much there was left till death would became apparent down in the well under his feet. He was watching. Putting just the right effort, and only as much interest as was needed to achieve the optimum efficiency in getting one more Autobot out of the online world.

He had always been very economic. Not interested in glory or fame, as a matter of fact not interested in feedback at all. What mattered was the effect. Calm perfection. Precision. His own standards subject to his own assessment. The rest could well not exist. He was an optimization machine. An achiever. A calculated mechanism, reaching objectives most efficiently, encased in a slender, elegant, strong and economic body that had exactly what he needed: strength, intellect, perception and endurance. Not more and not less.

A technocrat.

Now he was standing there, hidden in a dark corner of an abandoned mine corridor watching everything, in that very moment, as the rocks were tumbling down to kill her - a member of an enemy faction, one that should disappear. Someone inferior...

And then it happened. All of a sudden, out of the blue, for no apparent reason...

... his system crashed.

An electric surge in his capacitors appeared out of nowhere. It felt like an innocent short-circuit, accompanied by a smell of overcharge and burned insulation. A nano-second of static flashed through his vision registering it as a moment of slowdown and profound silence, even though the world went further around him in the same speed. It was followed by a brief overload alert from his RAM, suddenly flooded by his backup systems feeding him with an abrupt unexpected memory loop. Something glitched and he found himself inside the middle of a deja-vu from which he could not get out.

It all went really slow as he was now watching, as if from a distance but still from inside his own eyes, a surreal scene with him in the main role, one that he would never expect in his wildest dreams.

In a split moment he saw how his tentacles extended to the full length tightly wrapping around her as she was falling through the pit right in front of him. In slow motion, he felt her weight dragging him down but his powerful stabilisers balanced it pushing him instinctively to the corridor behind, bringing the weight centre backwards. He locked himself with his wings against the walls beside him with full strength. Something cracked badly beside him but he ignored it. Immune to the hits of the falling stones, his tentacles pulled the blue-violet fainted creature to the corridor getting her out of the tumbling rock cataclysm in the last moment before it would have destroyed her and dragged her to death in the underworld. In a brilliantly calculated way, as if prepared in advance. As if strategically deliberated, to choose just the optimum, fastest and least harmful of available options.

As if he *planned* it.

The speed of the sudden movement and the power of the reversed thrust pushed them both back to the cave kicking him out of balance. Before he knew it, her unconscious body was lying over him entangled in the embrace of his tentacles - tightly wrapped around her slim but strong frame, now in ruin, bleeding energon on him, drop by drop.

Only then he noticed that his left wing was strangely twisted and he felt it burning with pain. But he was too shocked to understand fully what had just happened.

*Impossible*.

His mind choked, before he got the notion that it was *him* who had done this *himself* just now, against all his embedded policies, against any reason. How on Cybertron could he have done this *himself*? Save an Autobot?

The feeling of deja-vu persisted now only slightly, but it still flickered somewhere in the subconsciousness, as if he had seen all this happening before already, but he just could not place it.

Panic was not exactly what he knew well and the sensation took him as a shock. He physically felt the energon veins narrowing down for a moment and a powerful wave of tension and heat ran through his whole system up to the fingertips. At the same time he shivered with cold. He felt how his processor froze for a moment overwhelmed by the sudden emotion. As if, after the outburst of irrational action, he numbed into a trembling state of self-disgust, wanting suddenly to get rid of it as soon as possible. This was fairly too much.

He needed to focus. It must have been a *glitch*. He scrolled back across the fresh memory, but the record only confirmed what he knew already. The picture was crystal clear and now he was lying with her, tied up together, thrust in a cavern that used to be a mine corridor now blocked with rocks released by the explosion. Trapped. And with it, one more thing came to light, something he almost forgot he could ever do.

He felt a *feeling*.

Not clear what it was exactly.

Rewind.

A set of feelings.

He panicked again for a nanoclick realizing that panic was also a feeling. A sudden reflex pressed his energon to a jump tension, speeding the system up beyond the safety levels for a second.

No way this was happening…

He registered her numb weight thrown over him by the thrust. She was somehow lighter than him, as slim and sleek, and also as strong… And he held her tight. Forcing himself to focus, he pushed the tentacles’ release protocol and they gave way loosing the grip. Set free, she rumbled to the side with an unpleasant grind of aching metal. He caught her in the last second with his wing and carefully placed on the ground next to him. She was unconscious.

A wave of stress pulled through him again. The cooling system sped up increasing ventilation capacity to stabilize the temperature. He looked at his own wing and realized that it was strangely twisted and blotted in energon. Hastily, he ran a scan registering his body status:

_******hardware status report****** _

_**function: spark:**_ _100% operational; no damage detected_  
_**function: main processor network:**_ _100% operational; no damage detected_  
_**function: enegon circulation:**_ _100% operational; no damage detected_  
_**function: memory systems:**_ _100% operational; no damage detected_  
_**function: locomotor system:** _ _100% operational; no damage detected_  
_**function: cooling systems:**_ _100% operational; no damage detected_  
_**function: electricity circuits and sensory networks:**_ _100% operational; no damage detected_  
_**function: protoflesh:**_ _100% operational; no damage detected_  
_**function: transformation cog** _ _: 100% operational; no damage detected_  
_**function: groundbride:**_ _access denied_  
_**function: external communications:** _ _access denied_  
_**function: geolocation:** _ _access denied_  
_**function: datacables connectivity:**_ _100% operational; no damage detected_  
_**function: self repair:** _ _deactivated  
__**function: symbiont docking systems:**_ _100% operational, undocked_

_[...]_

_*****no major damage detected***** _

  
What?

Nonsense. No sign of the injured wing in the readings. No energon spill or jump tension recorded. No cooling systems surges recorded. No nothing, but access denied to geolocation, groundbridge and communications. Were they too deep underground to run the geocomm functions? Unlikely. It worked perfectly down in many caves and mines before. Something must have been damaged but it was not clear what exactly.

Self repair inactive? Another glitch. His wing ached as hell, but the self-repair would not launch in line with the scan, even on a push. He tried to move it and he almost moaned in pain. He took a closer look to realize that it was probably broken in the joint. Energon was leaking and staining the ground below.

He leaned back for a moment and closed his optics. He repeated the scan, which returned the same “normal” results. Something was seriously wrong. What had exactly happened? He remembered clearly the strange smell and the feeling of the memory loop but nothing in his diagnostics showed any of this happened. Only his actions got recorded and they spoke for themselves.

He tried to stand up and look around. It did not look good. Although night vision worked fine, it did not clarify the situation, only confirmed what he already suspected. They were trapped by stones and rocks everywhere, the corridor was cut off from both sides. The place they were locked in was really small. He tried to scan the walls for a possible way out, but due to loss of energon, he felt weak and had to sit down for a moment.

Then his optics slipped at her unconscious body again. He looked closer and realized the extent of injury caused by the avalanche. The multiple wounds and leaks were visible with plain eye. There was a long but not too deep cut on her chest and one on the head, the armour was bent and twisted in many places. It was quite serious but nothing life threatening. Some welding would do the job.

Leaning a little closer, he touched the verges of the injured surface and assessed the damage. Surprisingly his own health repair systems returned functional readiness when it came to *her* wounds. Experimentally he welded a little keeping the torn verges of the armour together. It worked. He looked thoughtfully at the result of his experiment, and shrugged a bit in hesitation. They were trapped and there was no groundbride to make his way out, he rationalised. He will have to figure something out, and a spare pair of hands would be useful in case a more extensive job needed to be done. With no better answer than this and no other good reason he continued welding her major injuries and leaks.

He slowly fixed the leaks and cracks in her plating taking his time to analyse her structure. He looked closely at a large cut across her face, running over the cheek and mouth. He lifted his finger and stroke along it very gently, feeling the warmth of inflammation coming from her malfunctioning self repair. Delicately he applied his own repair kit along the cut sealing it up into a scar. Pausing for a while he looked at the effect.

 _::Beautiful…::_ The thought was striking.

It came along with the realization how energon was throbbing somewhere under his chassis, as if the pulse of her body got registered in him and kept replaying in a continuous loop. It was both pleasant and scary. It felt like a glitch but he did *not* want it to stop.

He moved even closer and suddenly he felt the urge to lift his mask up and rub his sensory wiring against this warm scar. What kind of a thought was that? With a shrug, he shook it off as soon as it appeared.   
  
He did not ever show his face to anyone. He was always covered with the black glass mask which hid his fragile construction of multiple sensors and which made him what he was in the eyes of the world. Soundwave, the slenderbot. One with no eyes, but who saw and heard everything. One who never spoke, but who was able to convey more than a thousand words with one picture or record. One that knew. One that could decipher intentions and thoughts of others but who never revealed his own. One from whom you could not hide. One that freaked the toughest Decepticons out by just standing there. Silently. Unexpectedly. Deadly.

He took some moderate pride in this image which was close to his technocrat truth. The face didn’t really matter anyway, why would he bother. It was a tool, a pretty damn good tool with some good deadly destructive bits to it. It was rational to hide this masterpiece of ancient technology which was so easy to hurt, so risky to look at, the strangest and most powerful bit of his body.

Sometimes it itched a little to open up and get rid of the limitation, show the world what he really was like, but he also found comfort in hiding it, having something of his own. In fact hardly anyone realized what he was like behind the black mask which they treated it as his normal look. He did not show his face expression and so he didn't even have to make an effort to hide it. What was his, belonged to him only, and he liked that the other mecha feared his faceless look. No-one, maybe apart from Shockwave, had any idea about him. Of course Laserbeak and Ravage had. But Ravage was gone and Laserbeak was his symbiont, almost a part of him, and symbionts were simply out of scope.

He calmed the thoughts a little and pulled back slightly limiting himself to enjoying the heat on his finger by stroking her freshly welded scar gently for a moment longer. Just to feel her energon running below the tips of his claws...

At the same moment her, so far offlined eyes, opened suddenly looking straight at him.

* * *

 

He pulled his hand back instantly. Her optics shone brightly for a moment and soon faded back a little as she tried to move up with a rusty screech. He stayed silent and motionless looking at her with his eyeless visor, black and impermeable. Behind it, all sensors worked at full speed.

He inspected her EM field that conveyed fear and anger. He heard how her systems suddenly kicked in like crazy. Despite that she did not react, only looked at him calmly. Self-control… A hint of respect flashed through his processor. They eyed each other for a longer while before she finally spoke.

“Hi” - she said trying to smile with a painful grin. Her eyes scanned him attentively as she recognised him. - “Soundwave...”

She tried to move but the freshly welded wounds did not seal yet. He touched her arm pushing her back gently to the lying position.

“What is it you want? A new type of torture?” - She asked with a sarcastic tone - “Me in the hands of a Decepticon. How about that!” - the thought of raising her blasters and shooting him right in the head appeared and disappeared in the same moment when she followed his gaze sweeping over her wounds and the narrow cavern around them.

“We are trapped, aren't we?” - she asked looking at him intensely. He nodded.

“And you do not usually speak, do you?” - she added. He only looked at her. Then a scanning sequence visualised at his visor displaying her health status data and the recount of repairs. She shook her head a little in surprise. He obviously was trying to fix her with available means. She felt pain all around her frame but it was no illusion, she was really healing thanks to what seemed to be his efforts.

Slowly, he raised his hand again and moved forward to mending her remaining injuries.

“You are fixing me” - she stated the obvious. To no surprise he did not really react but just carried on with the work. She bit her lip plate a little while he welded last of her wounds to stabilize them for speed-healing but she was tough and focused not to make any unnecessary movement that could make things worse.

Finally he delicately let her go. Then he stood up and slowly left the little cavern to a bigger space near by. Carefully, he examined the walls and sought up the remains of the corridor which let him in previously. Not much of a corridor now. And in need of excavation. Rocks were blocking the way and everything had collapsed around them. The scanner reached not much further than some more layers of stone and inside the remains of the mine total darkness prevailed forcing him to night vision. The place they were stuck in was inconvenient but looked safe for the moment. Nothing else seemed to be tumbling down, the landslide must have ended and stabilised until anyone would push it out of the fragile balance again.

His groundbridge was still dysfunctional. Blasting their way out was out of the question though, if they didn’t want to remain buried forever. Subtle manual labour was the only option at hand after the avalanche.

In order to do anything, he had to set his left aching arm into place. He gave it a try. It kicked him like a lightning with striking pain and an orchestra of system warnings. He bent down a little and grabbed himself around the wound with the other healthy wing.

She noticed the sudden movement. She lifted her head and her blue eyes turned attentively towards him. Little sparks of understanding surfaced in her optics.

“You are hurt too” - she said quietly with her scarred lips. - “Why don’t you cure yourself?” - The blue flashes of her optical sensors became deeper and they focused on his black impenetrable face panel. He instantly collected himself and went on investigating the cave as if nothing had ever happened. But it was enough for her to tone down and soften. She started to remember - the explosion, the floor collapsing, the falling and the last memory of something grabbing her in the rocky avalanche. Now she realized what must have happened.

When the explosion took place she did not know that she was not alone since some time already and that he must probably have been spying after her in the abandoned mines. How otherwise would he be here now? Or have Decepticons found out what she was looking for?

Organicon, the substance she was after, was reported to be found on some organic planets, including Earth. It had an alleged capability to allow mecha to develop some organic features alien to mechanical beings. Arcee found a trace of its radiation some time ago in the abandoned mine-cave system that Autobots explored on another occasion in search for energon. She decided to secretly come back and look it up believing it would take just a few clicks and then she could be safely back to base. No-one knew about her little excursion, Optimus and Ratchet would never allow her on such a mission alone. Well, it seemed now this would not end up in a couple of clicks as she has previously foreseen.

So now she was here, trapped with Soundwave, in a most improbable situation. Strangely enough he was not hostile nor even really neutral. She had no idea how this came about but he was just done welding some of her wounds. And he was badly injured and too proud to request returning the favour.

She slowly raised herself up. She looked at the broken wing, it must have hurt horribly.

“Soundwave. Come over here” - she said after some moments of silence - “I can have a look at your wing. Ratchet taught me how to emergency weld wounds” - she added. He looked at her and after a moment of hesitation he turned back and sat down next to her showing the injury.

“You must lie down” - she said - “It cannot be bent like this” - He nodded and changed the position as she wanted it.

 _::Whoa::_ she thought _::Now I am fixing Soundwave. This cannot be_ ::. She sat closer and carefully examined his thin smooth wing from the top to the very end, where the slender claw-fingers extended bearing only slight resemblance to regular humanoid fingers of grounders like her. In this state, Primus help, this wing would not transform whatsoever. Some joints and connectors were twisted and torn way too badly for her to do anything about it. But she could at least stabilise it and reconnect the main wirings and pipings to allow the energon flow to feed the swollen tissues, as well as set the hydraulics back in place again so that he could regain at least some mobility.

The wing itself was sleek and long, very dark navy-blue-purple in colour with some hardly visible earlier scars which she noticed only upon closer examination. It was almost as long as his whole body, and she admired the beautiful forge. He had a very complex and aesthetic structure, with massive number of little details hidden underneath, not relevant for his robot mode but indispensable for a flight frame whose real world were flying in the open skies.

She never thought of it before but now she reflected how fine it would be to fly the way jets did. Feeling on the wing she played with this thought for a minute and grew a conviction derived from his perfect smooth built that he must have been forged, created from nature and not cold constructed by someone's hands. There was something extremely unique in the way he was built, starting from these arm-wings… She has never seen anything like this.

He did not get impatient with her inaction, on the contrary he seemed to be focused and at ease, giving her a strange feeling as if he was listening to her thoughts with some interest. It was a creepy feeling so she defroze from her thoughtfulness, collected her EM field closer to herself and got to work sticking the loose bits of the broken wing together. He helped her by displaying the schematics of the complex built of the injured area. At first a little clumsy, but soon she caught the rhythm and the efforts yielded some pretty good results under the circumstances. She managed to reconnect the most important parts and stop the leaking. He did not move more than necessary and was patiently bearing her best attempts to operationalise his arm. It was far from the natural smoothness but it had to do. It was pragmatic.

All along the way she realized that what was happening it seemed sort of a deal in which they helped each other somehow for a purpose. She wondered how long this purpose would persist. _::This is called a truce::_ she thought to herself looking at the enemy symbol on his wing not far from where she was welding.

Strangely enough, sitting there with his arm stretched over her knees, she felt completely safe as if she had him in her powers. This was certainly an illusion but she just did not feel the instinct to bother with this at the moment. Here and now it worked for her and there was harmony in all this setting, with the blue glow from her eyes, and greenish-violet bioglow from his armour seams, lighting only negligently the night vision aura.

When she finished, he got up to his peds and scanned the scar with appreciation, nodding a sort of thank you gesture towards her. Then he turned to the walls and resumed the thorough scan of their surroundings. She stood aside and did the same on her part. With some effort they found a radar projection of the likely corridor continuation and slowly set off to work. Stone by stone it needed to be cleared. It was hard to say what could be found on the other side but no communications or other tools worked here to allow a better scan so it had to do with the old-fashioned way.

* * *

 

Many hours passed while they were working. Then they recharged for a bit and then again many hours passed working again. They were tired and the silence was heavy and focused. Since long it was only disturbed by the sound of their work in clearing the way, slowly bit by bit, with hope to find a place from which they could use anything else but their bare servos without a risk that everything would cave in on their heads burying them forever in this unfriendly depth.

She said something from time to time, but he never expressed a word. She had heard before that he never speaks, but it was hard to believe, unless his voice box was damaged same as Bumblebee’s. Because, why would someone choose not to speak? For example, Bumblebee who could not talk like others, found all possible workarounds through sound-coding or commlinks, being in fact one of the more talkative of them. This was obviously not the case with Soundwave. At some point she thought he was making fun of her in a certain way by just not replying anything while he could have done that so easily. It was irritating.

Somehow he did communicate however, but it was more through some self-explanatory gestures and technical schemes and calculations he displayed in front of him. She felt like he was somehow clear to understand when he wanted it, and that he understood her well beyond what she expressed, he did not even squeak a word himself. This was making her annoyed as the silence provoked too many thoughts crowding in her mind, with fear, anxiety and anger mixing in an untasty blend that made her feel like talking with someone, even if this was a Decepticon officer trapped with her as the only company.

On the contrary, there was something tempting in the idea of dragging him into some sort of non-technical communication. Something “with a human touch” as her organic friends would say. She tried a couple of times and he seemed to look at her (how could she see that, he had no eyes, no face whatsoever) and listen attentively. Sometimes he tilted his head a little to the side, clearly a sign of attention, as she explained to herself. When she finished talking he seemed to acknowledge and come back to work with no answer. A couple of times he showed her some things with a gesture catching her attention with a totally mechanical sound similar to that of their deck computer, a beep that meant nothing but just signalled that you need to look at something that flashed white or red and turned out to be another cross section diagram of the closest rock deposit that he managed to scan.

Once or twice she noticed also that, when he must have thought she wasn’t looking, he covered the welded wound on his wing with his hand with a careful gesture. Once she thought she heard something like almost non-audible sigh that she more felt than registered with her audials. _::Painful::_ she was sure it must have been very painful, the wing must have hurt like hell while he worked, she could see how he tried to avoid lifting weights with it, helping himself with the very precise and efficient tentacles.  

Somehow she understood him despite all this silence, and she realized that there was something awkward about this at the same time. Something almost psychic, as if communication was pouring from him right to her processor without using any commlink at all.

She was convinced she should have given up talking long ago, but yet another feeling kept her uneasy and pushed her to continue. This here was a Decepticon, known to be ruthless and brilliantly clever, cold as ice, about whom the rumour had it that he deleted his emotions once in order to speed up his processor and free his intellect from sentient limitations. This much for the gossip. However it just did not totally match with her gut feeling right now. Although his EM field did not show almost at all, she had a *feeling* there was a great inconsistency around him. As if something was going on inside him which she did not totally understand, unclear and strange. So she grew more and more curious of the very calm, methodic and well contained mech working next to her.

She did not know too much about Decepticons as persons altogether, beyond the rich experience she had in fighting them. She did not fully understand their motivations and thought only the worst of them, and the whole story here down in the cave looked quite unlikely to her. In the first place why was she still alive? Secondly, why did he patch her up and actively save her? Thirdly, what was that feeling she had when she was around him, as if there was something quietly desperate and very intense boiling everywhere around where he put his step. As if the ice-cube that he seemed to be was sort of melting and leaving wet footprints behind him, in which she followed, and every step made her even more uneasy and curious. She could not explain this. Did it have something to do with the entrapment, with the place they were locked in? The proximity of organicon that was supposed to be buried somewhere in this depth, if it at all existed and she was not wrong?

“Don’t you ever say anything?” - she wondered aloud putting aside a stone she just removed from the blocked corridor like dozens of other stones that they removed since many hours. With these words she sent him a long stale gaze. He did not say anything, as usual. It pissed her off. Irritation crept along her hands and inside her chest with unpleasant tendrils of itching cold. An unclear bundle of feelings shot out of her finally:

“Do you even have a face at all, anyway??!!?” - she snapped angrily looking at his emotionless visor which turned to her finally in slow motion. Her words echoed in the still air as he froze in his movement and even deeper silence filled the cave. She could hear water dripping in a distance, drop by drop falling into some little pool hidden beyond the reach of her vision. It felt as if long minutes passed before he slowly put down the rock that he was holding and turned towards her, now fully.

He looked somehow bigger and stronger than she thought all this time. Dark armour colours with the inner glow on the seams made him seem a little demonic and she saw how the glow darkened and lightened slightly on him as if in a soft pulse. Despite his wounds and the slim posture he gave an impression of power and authority, like someone who perfectly knew what he wanted and didn’t turn back in front of anything. Someone with no fear. Her gaze slipped down onto the Decepticon symbol on his injured wing and its sight sent a sudden shiver of dread down her backstrut.

Had she forgotten who he was?

She could not see it on the faceless mask but she felt his intense look somewhere from within, through the carbon dark glass that he had in place where most of living creatures had some sort of a face. But he did not have one. _::Or he does not show it::_ it struck her suddenly and she looked at him again, there, where he was supposed to have eyes. She could bet something almost invisible flashed red there behind the deep black, and it scared and upset her at the same time. Now he was standing there in front of her, silent as usual, glaring at her with strange intensity, likely offended with her straightforward and rude question. Instinctively, she felt like stepping back but she withstood the urge and remained in place. Yet, she could not help the slight trembling of her hands. She looked down on them. He must have seen it all the same. She could not hide it.

And suddenly she felt - rather than saw - a shadow of his wing raising from where he put down the rock. She could not get her eyes of his visor though, as if something, danger or a surprise could only come from there and the rest didn't really matter. A longer moment of silence fell over them again, and it felt eternal, unnerving and straining her patience. But for some reason she would not give up. And then again, as if it was an illusion, the visor was still in the same place but somehow closer to her face, not plain black anymore, but displaying a command in Old Cybertronian glyphs:

 _Offline your optics._  

First her eyes glared brighter with surprise. She tilted her head a little left, same like he would do when listening to her. The light from her eyes reflected in the carbon glass of his mask in front of her. Something paralysed her in place even more. She did not even move as she saw his clawed hand moving slowly towards her optics until his thin fingers touched her eyelids very gently. She felt as if her locomotor system got glitched and just wouldn’t move. Frozen as she stood not understanding why she was doing it, she obediently followed his request and slowly closed the eyelids offlining the optical sensors at the same time. His touch was hypnotising as if it was another Decepticon trick that he now was using at her.

If it was a trick, she agreed to be tricked and she followed...

 

 


	2. Spark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters 4 & 5 of [..::GLITCH::..](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13257471?view_full_work=true)

He wished she did not talk to him at all all that time. He wished that they just worked their way out of this maze and he could be back to normal. Just to set off and fly away. But there was nowhere he could fly to right now and he was getting dizzy more and more in this underground as if something very powerful gently took over his senses leading him to unexpected corners of his mind and his body. He vaguely remembered this state from the past, from before the war, before he managed to have all the disturbances locked out and erased for good. The explosion must have rebooted some very old backup fragments of his programming from the times he did not wish to remember, and now it took him over again. And strangely enough he liked it. This was the most scary part.

He leaned closer to her face and looked at her closed optics sensing her anxiety and curiosity, and yet something else - something blurring, soft and sweet. The heat inside him spread warmly and evenly giving a pleasant feeling of tension to his tissues hidden behind the armour. He could not resist it and nothing in him but the cold intellect wanted to stop it. But even the intellect was not so cold anymore, overwhelmed by the heat that was condensing since the moment he first caught her with his datacables down the exploded corridor, when the glitch kicked in.

The pulsing sensation only grew stronger and woke up a desire to break the silence which normally was so easy to keep in face of the nonsense of reality. But not now. He felt the heat and not only his own. It changed him in this moment, it made him want to say something, which he almost did by resorting to writing her the command line message.

Instead he slowly spread down his wing and reached out for her hand still looking intensely at her closed eyelids, ready to withdraw any second. He grabbed her hand gently and slowly raised it up in front of his face. She did not make any resistance, her eyes remained closed.

Did she trust him? Why would she? Her hand was warm and she let him hold it. He sensed it from the whirlwind of her field that encircled him almost tangibly spreading the intensity of her curiosity and her waiting. So he did trust her too, in that moment, impulsively, not sure of the possible consequences. Just because he wanted it badly exactly now. He wanted to show her that *she was wrong*.

She did not see how his visor lifted up silently baring his face. But she heard a slight hissing of the rarely used bearings and her spark pulsed a little stronger. He could feel the energon rush in her hand. He unwound her fingers delicately and gently pressed them onto his cheek. His real cheek. Part of his real face. The one that felt, that was soft and warm, the one that was hidden and erased from the memory of the past and deprioritized along with other distractions.

She did not back out. She did not open her eyes either, as if understanding the unspoken condition for this magic to persist. Instead, she focused completely on the feeling and after a moment she moved her fingers touching him delicately.  
  
His skin, the word that came to her mind to call it, was a bit rubbery, warm and soft to the touch. She felt a delicate pulsing texture of wiring and multitude of micro components beneath that all seemed to be throbbing with their own life. It was not hard, metallic or fixed like the one of other bots she knew including herself, but it felt like an incredibly complex mechanism built of million bits covered by finest of insulations. It gave in to her touch when she tried to feel the little elements and everything responded to her fingers with an almost autonomous reaction of warmth and pulsation - like if they interacted directly with the particles of her fingers. But when she defocused a little everything seemed to be disappearing as if her fingers touched the air… A dance of hide and seek, she was not sure if she understood at all what she was touching.

The wave of heat lingering in him almost exploded. He felt he was burning under the touch. Each fingertip left a stamp, like a wound or a scar, but not one that would hurt but that would soothe and addict. A tremendous desire for something more whirled in his head moving the world around. He felt the energon flowing inside her just millimeters away from his most fragile sensors. The delicate stroking of her fingers reached down to his spark encoding itself firmly as a signature of her acceptance. And his spark unwound from the tight little cage where he stuffed it in since years now to fill his whole body with a strong healing glow. He felt it boiling within him like a stormy ocean that wanted to break the dam and drown everything in itself - to embed her it its waters fully, instead of just slightly wetting the fingertips.

He knew, what she might not yet be realizing - he let anyone cross that barrier for the first time after so long, almost ever since he remembered. At the back of his mind he knew that this was the most dangerous thing he had done since vorns.

Instead, he did nothing but stood there silent and motionless letting her examine his face for as much as she wished, as if the whole of his existence was focused in this very spot. The bioglow lines on his armour changed intensity in slow motion, while the cooling subsystems hummed intensely trying to keep the body from overcharging. It developed into a subtle rhythm and finally, a little shy, he gently, almost unnoticeably, rubbed his cheek against her hand, responding to the touch. Encouraged, she traveled with her fingers further as if she were really blind and wanted to feel what he looked like.

She focused deeply and an expression of fascination surfaced on her face, stunned and confused, strangely bright and happy. Yes, she *did forget* who he was, but he was nothing she could have imagined before. In the couple of orn spent together underground, the silent airborne mech gained an amazing complexity and attractiveness which she did not understand. It irritated but it also excited her to a suspicious extent. And now this. The face.

Well, she asked for it after all… This was what she wanted, to see his face, and he *did* that for her, for Primus sake, he did that, he broke the invisible barrier between them and now, in this very moment, she knew she gave up. Longing for whatever happens, just not to let it stop.

Blind-touching she found his forehead, then moving the hand down over his eyes she made him close them the same way he did to her before. It thrilled her to feel that he had most likely optical eyes, with humanoid-like eyelids, the old-fashioned way. Although she couldn’t be sure if these are just not dozens of microparticles that he moved around structuring them into what she wanted to see. She longed to online her optics and see it for real, to see what he looked like, but with some deeper wisdom she contained it. Instead she moved her hand down towards his lips, letting her fingertips discover their existence. Eventually, her hand returned slowly to the burning cheek. All that time he just simply gave in to these caresses rubbing his skin delicately against her palm.

Conveyed through her fingers she almost physically felt the tension within him. She sensed also how important it was what just happened. She understood how suddenly naked and vulnerable he stood in front of her just trusting she would not trespass the unspoken barrier of vision. She did not know where this knowledge came from, but she felt it pouring across her mind. Something important... Her spark pulsed even stronger as she felt on this meshy skin that she imagined must have been carbon black just as his visor, and very complexly and beautifully textured.

And suddenly an impulse, a decision emerged inside her not leaving enough space for thought. She lifted her other hand on his opposite cheek and held his head in both hands.

“What are you made of?” - she whispered breaking the silence but she did not say more, not expecting any answer. Instead she raised up her face dragging his head down slightly towards her, her eyes still closed, she found his lips and kissed, the way humans did on this planet where they were trapped. The pleasure was so immense, that he almost staggered. Impulsively he lifted up both his wings and covered her smaller fingers with his own thin and clawy ones, squeezing her palms to his face a bit too strong, but none of them bothered.  The currents on the connected surfaces went around like crazy leaving a burning feeling and smell of overcharge. He wanted to scream and roar with his rusty unused voice, but instead he released a hardly audible, slightest of pleasure moans.

She responded by moving closer and tighter so that now their chests and hips were leaning at each other. Electricity released across the two machine bodies overwhelmed them both. She staggered on her legs that weakened suddenly while the deep sensation and a shiver of pleasure ran across her from head to toes. Then he could not resist anymore. His tentacles extended almost automatically and wrapped around her tightly, squeezing her close to him. He imprisoned her in a bear hug of his long wings holding now her head in his hands and continuing the organic kiss gently outweighing the fire inside him. The world went around them both in circles, in a wonderful dizziness, enough for her to lose herself completely. He had her now so close, her strong body arched in his wings, she was both melting and yet tightening towards him, and he could register the flow of the fluids and currents inside her as well as the pulsing of her spark, just a few inches from his own just freshly befried one. It was so close to open up totally and merge the two throbbing sparks together, maybe in a few moments, deep underground in the foreign, alien world. Nothing else really mattered.

And then the world collapsed.

In a nanosecond of stupidity in the middle of this whirlwind, tempted by some unknown force of curiosity, she opened her eyes, just a little, half a millimeter, to see nothing more than two blurred burning red charcoals gleaming at her with desire just an inch away. But it was enough to momentarily blind her and take her out. A wave of inaudible but intense low frequency sound blasted her off her feet, turning off all receptors and senses, powering her life functions down, offlining her deeply and completely. She did not see how instantly his mask fell down with a click covering his face behind its black armoured glass. For her, everything went dark and she did not fall to the ground just because he still held her pulsing fainted body tight in his wings and tentacles.

She did not hear the genuine, unhindered roar of desperation rolling across the cave walls causing rocks to collapse and fall of the sound in the confined space of the corridor that they so carefully had cleaned for so many hours - leaving them trapped inside worse than before.

Nooooooo!

Oh frag, frag, frag!

How could he have been so stupid? How could have he played it so horribly wrong? It was not supposed to happen…

He put her gently down releasing her from the hug and then he collapsed on his knees besides her, scraping the floor with anger and frustration. The bioglow from his spark flashed frantically around him. Energon spilled from his fingers as he crushed the rocks around him in sudden outrage. Then he arched back leaning his head behind him on his shoulders and a painful shiver shook his still sparking frame.

It took a few clicks before his sensory network restored basic functions of normality. Finally he reached out to her and absentmindedly stroke her face gently, staining her with his fingers now bleeding energon from the scratches and closing her half open eyes. This all was just too strange, too overwhelming, he was not even sure why it started at all, how was it possible that he followed this impulse, this urge, to get close, to touch, to release the feeling, to let it win his mind… It was so unlike him. He did not even know her. She meant nothing in fact. She was just… someone he met and spent some time with trapped deep underground. Where did all this come from? The excitement, the pulse, the spark… and the opened mask, and his ancient defense mechanism kicking in uncontrollably in the worst moment ever. All this surpassed his capability to comprehend, smashing his logical and organised world apart in one little click. A moment of wonder transformed into grotesque and he was now feeling guilty, stupid and furious.

He looked at her lying unconscious on the floor. Slowly, he scanned her for life signs and with a slight shade of relief he registered a faint, staggering spark pulse. He knew all too well what it meant. Everything will become clear in the next hours. If her system fights the sudden stasis lock, she will be back. If not, then… not. Nothing he could do about it.

Suddenly the broken wing started to ache horribly, his cheeks and lips still burned everywhere where she touched him, with engraved memory of her hand. And now she was lying there beside him defunct, just because of his damned silence, his stupidity, the momentary lapse of reason. Not to have explained her anything, not to have secured her against himself... Even for the sake of the heat of that moment just before… So different to a couple of days ago, now the *last* thing that he wanted was her to be offline.

He did not realize that small drops of energon spilled from under his visor while he angrily has thrown himself inwards into his own system looking for the bloody sensory bug that caused all this. Everything hurt him now. His system hurt just because it was there. Kill it, kill it. Kill the feelings, why couldn’t he be himself, the one he knew for the many recent vorns. Why couldn’t he had just run away, transform and fly off to the world that he knew. Do the things he did best: hack transmissions, fix computers, spy on others and keep order on Nemesis.

He deeply felt like formatting his own system for a moment, or at least find the faulty sector and delete it. Delete the bloody forsaken ancient backup from the oldest times on Cybertron, when he was protoformed into what he now covered under the mask. He was made for a world different than the one that transformed him, that made him poisonous. He was not always like this...

But it was so easy to be a Decepticon this way, the cold-sparked technocrat he had become after his drastic emotional surgery that removed feelings from his system once. All the time afterwards he was sort of happy with himself this way. Or satisfied. The soul did not hurt, nothing really mattered too much, nothing bothered. Everything was logic and analysis. It was easy to follow Megatron’s cause by evaluating the pros and cons of actions based on the practical implications on the mathematical level. He could focus and did not need really too much or almost nothing individually for himself. Not like in the past, when he was still sentient, too sentient, when he lived overwhelmed with all that he did not want to know or hear, but he did, as he was forged to hear, know and record.

Hi sighed. He could think what he liked but he should have been wiser than that. He knew he let himself free all to fast when the feelings returned in the glitch that caught him a few days before. He intentionally ignored it because he enjoyed it and the situation felt so temporary, he thought, he could allow himself this luxury of feeling... good?   
  
Since he erased the emotions, he almost forgot how to bear feelings that bother, touch or excite. Only very few remains omitted by the script needed for his basic functioning and survival worked for him in the form of reflexes and intuition. And the attachment to his closest symbionts - but they were really a part of him, so in fact it could qualify as a basic instinct to protect one’s own limbs or organs. Now, after the glitch hit him, he was a bit like a child. Overwhelmed and enchanted. And also scared and broken. Any protection was gone. It all was too much for him, the normal scripts that he once had long time in the past to control his emotions, when he still felt them, have long since expired and fitted nothing anymore. At least he thought so looking at her lying unconscious in front of him, as he slowly calmed down to restore his logical functions and system parameters.

This would explain why he could not cure himself thoroughly but he could heal her after the explosion. His disturbed system scan did not reach important bits of himself, it must have been related to that, he thought. Not everything now could be logically analysed in him and the confusion created false iterations, loops and bugs…

Cooling down slowly he realized that despite the dramatic change he was still able to discern the logical and intellectual functions from the emotional reactions that drowned his body in a cocktail of chemistry which worked on him like alcohol on an abstinent human being. But still, he reflected, biologically speaking, if he followed his new chemistry fully like it wanted him to, he would have exploded himself or would have squeezed her unconscious trying to intake her through every opening of his frame and mix her spark with his own. The wiring beneath the armour itched even now, and at the sole thought of it his face started burning again. But he did not do what pure biology wanted. He was soft and gentle. He just enjoyed the tension building up in him, he took pleasure in the sensuality and uncertainty of the contact. He enjoyed the fact that just a touch of her hand on his cheek could make him react with every sense, as if there was some strange power in it incomparable to any resources in the known universe.

He looked at his own hands, and down at his body. He felt really, really strange. All that he just experienced was something utterly awkward. He realized he followed a very deep desire which did not exist at all in his non-sentient part of the past. But at the same time, he did not lose himself completely. He felt as if he took the best of it. So this was how it felt. What he had seen in others so many times, their ups and downs, their fire and ice storms, foreign to him before, now hit him with such a strength… And he still felt that in fact it did not let go. It only changed again, it flowed across him, as the complex emotional matrix was storming through him while he tried to balance it with his intellect and thinking. Even now...

If she were conscious… he could just lie there and let her touch him the way she did just a moment ago for almost forever draining his energy and sharing this incredible glow that he had developed for a moment. He wanted to have her lively and pulsing, back in his arms again. Although he knew he would eventually ask for more. Or would he be just granted this out of her own desire?

He shook his head desperately trying to revert to intellect, feeling the heat wave and tension approaching again, warmly tickling and pressing the wirings, itching the inside of his body and pulsing in his hydraulics, cables and sensory networks. He looked at her with resignation. She wouldn’t wake up too soon anyway. He could allow himself a bit of that warmth before everything will have to be restored back to normal. One last time, just a little. As long as the surreal situation persisted.

Slowly he raised up the mask again and the blood-red glow of his eyes filled the cave. He moved closer to her and nestled himself down on the ground next to her powered down frame. Carefully he put his face next to hers so that he touched her cheek with his own. An energon drop dripped on her from a painful scratch her fingers left on his face when she went offline. He noticed it, rubbed it gently off her cheek, and suddenly became very sad.

What if he gets himself restored to his pristine unemotional state? Wouldn’t this mean exactly the same as if she did not ever wake up again? Would this mean that he would lose this ability to feel such wonderful things he just experienced but still remember the pleasure and closeness that now could not be regained? He stroke her delicately on the cheek and providently closed his own eyes. The only thing he wanted while waiting for her to survive was to feel the touch of her on his bare face. He would have to get going and uncave them, but these few moments were still his. Before all is gone. He squeezed his healthy wing under her arms, covering her chest with the other, wounded one and pressing his face even stronger to hers in a tight hug. Although his skin insulation was too vulnerable to be exposed to anything outside for too long, he remained like this as long as he could, until the tiredness and endured emotions turned his limbs numb and peripherals off one by one. Finally the emergency protocol slowly moved his mask down into place before he fell into full power down and recharge.


	3. Down to Earth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters 6, 7 & 8 of [..::GLITCH::..](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13257471?view_full_work=true)

Arcee was floating weightlessly in the black-blue-red light. She was feeling safe and calm. Her body was relieved and light, as if all tension was gone and the only sensation she felt was this soft pleasant weakness in her limbs and head. Her fingertips were melting with the darkness around her. She could move her hands freely and it seemed as if energon was moving back and forth inside her and there was no real physical boundary between her and the reality. She felt no pain and it was warm and hypnotising. She slowly opened her eyes wider and the darkness gained purple-bluish patterns and the light concentrated slowly as she was trying to focus her vision.

The floating and weightlessness persisted as if she were in a vacuum, while the shadows she saw were gaining structures bit by bit, first blurry then more and more becoming into shapes… A black armoured glass mask and the strong built chest were leaning over her, as well as the long long wings and thin waist with visible bioglow lines. Two red dots of his eyes shone through the black glass of his visor while he was looking at her.

She smiled to him and slowly reached out to touch his visor but it seemed that her hand went right through. She felt a little soft weight pressing against her chest, arm and cheek. Warmth spread from there but she could not see anything. There was nothing, only the vision of him floating in the vacuum above her shoulder. So she looked at him feeling the warmth spreading across her body from the pleasant heaviness resting on her. The vision floated with her and she felt more and more cozy. Once more she failed to reach him and suddenly she started to fall with some rocks that appeared from nowhere. They were passing by her and through her but she did not feel the hits, as if she was immaterial.

Then some hands grabbed her, and the world went round, she felt very heavy and still falling while the vision of Soundwave started to water down into the distance. There was suddenly pain and a numbing feeling of cold that bit her metal body. Her head started to explode with pain and she now felt all the falling rocks hit her in a nasty, cold way like frost bites. Everything was freezing and wet and she could not move anymore. She heard voices approaching closer and closer.

“Arcee, Arcee, wake up Arcee” - she felt large amounts of snow falling on her like an avalanche, covering and uncovering her on its way down, taking all the heat away and numbing her to any external signals.

“Arcee, do you hear me?” - in the blur of her headache she recognised the voice of Optimus approaching her from the frost-biting darkness spreading around her. Then the snow was gone and she felt being lifted slowly and put on something. - “We will take you home” - she heard the bossbot’s soothing voice. - “Thank Primus we received your rescue call” - he added partly to her, partly to himself. - “Where have you been all these days?” - he muttered.

She opened one eye just to see his worried face above her. He smiled from ear to ear seeing her onlining. - “That’s my girl! Autobots, Arcee is waking up!” - he called at the others. - “You are lying in Ratchet’s trailer, he will take you home. You have suffered from supercooling. You were lying here in the snow for quite some time, but now it is all right”. - He smiled to her again with the warmest of smiles a serious bot like him could have at stock.

She smiled back weakly and tried to raise her head and look around but it did not work too well. - “Oh, Optimus! Where am I? What happened to Soundwave?” she asked in a very silent voice.

“Lie down Arcee, you are not in the best condition. Soundwave? What about Soundwave?” - Optimus expression changed to surprise. - “He seems not to be here. No sign of any Decepticon when we arrived. You fought Soundwave? When we are back at base you will tell us what happened. You are quite injured and exhausted now. Rest a little. There will be plenty of time to talk” - he said putting his hand on her arm. - “You are safe now”.

 _::To talk::_ she considered the concept and it echoed in her processor that talking is not really a right thing to do. It was not her own thought, she would bet, but she was too weak to analyse.

He closed the door. She heard him transforming and everybody rolled out. The soft swinging of Ratchet’s emergency car made her sleepy and she fell into recharge again before they even reached the groundbridge location only to wake up much later already at the medbay. She dreamt another dream with Soundwave lying hurt on the ground bleeding energon all over his body. She tried to restitute him and stop the bleeding but again her hand passed through him like through the air and she could do nothing.

* * *

 

Something crashed heavily against the landing deck of Nemesis. KnockOut felt the ship shake a little as his medbay was located close the landing field entrance hatch. Luckily the emergency alert systems did not turn on. So it must have been one of the Vehicon troopers crash-landing after some failed endeavour, he thought, and turned back to his work.

Without paying too much attention the Decepticon medic sunk in his usual stuff, experimenting with phaseshifter, a new relic recovered by the Cons that allowed passing through solid objects, trying to figure out how the tool worked and potentially be able to copy it in the future. Focused he did not hear the door open and the silent steps approaching. Only a nasty screech of metal behind him finally drog his attention to the visitor.

“Ah, Soundwave, the big man was looking for you…” - he started automatically but then he realised what he was in fact seeing in front of him.

“Oh scrap! Soundwave! What the hell happened to you????” - his jaw dropped down to the floor, but he defroze as quickly as he got shocked. He rushed to Soundwave and supported him from falling down.

KnockOut has never seen Soundwave in such a condition. He looked as if fresh from a battle. He hardly stood on his legs, his armour was damaged and his wing was in the strangest shape, stuck half-way in transformation in the form of a bulky glitch of metal scrapheap trembling freakishly as if it still tried to regain the proper form over and over again spilling energon all over the place.

KnockOut helped him across the room and he had to almost lift the silent visitor in his arms onto the medberth where he placed the suddenly very heavy mech for examination. It was clear to him that the guilty factor was a faulty transformation that stuck halfway on some tissues that were obviously injured before causing the overall blocking of the whole process somewhere in the middle, stuck from progressing one way or the other which resulted in an overall pitiful and painful effect.

With a visible effort Soundwave turned his visor to him and a disrupted list of failures and injuries displayed across from his internal healing systems, which now seemed to be failing dramatically.

“Ok, ok” - KnockOut stopped him with a hand gesture - “I get it, you’re injured, but first we need to disentangle this bundle over here” - he showed the closer undefined shape of the half transformed wing. - “Man, it looks like you were chewed up by a dinobot” - he said while examining the pitiful thing that once was Soundwave’s wing. Loads of bits were displaced and a large wound was open with signs of unskilled welding attempts up on it.

While working KnockOut babbled his usual chatter commenting everything he saw and recounting the current situation on the ship and Megatron’s irritation over the missing of Soundwave over the last few days. Things obviously waited to be fixed, stuff to be done, the usual crap that he typically just took on and went ahead with.

Now lying in the medbay, half subdued with KnockOuts anesthetics, he heard all this from a distance and could not even afford a slight irritation. Instead, despite the immense risk of KnockOut being here and working on his body, he couldn’t stop frantically replaying for himself the scenes and thoughts from the last days, struggling with a decision what to do next.

Then, after a good number of blurry hours, a comment reached him from the distance:

“Almost done. Your self-repair is back on and the wing is fixed. You should stay and recharge here a bit under my observation before this heals at least basically. How on Cybertron did you get yourself beaten up so badly? It takes a monster just to scratch you usually”.

Soundwave did not manage more than just to look at him floating in his anesthetic bubble, while KnockOut continued chuckling and teasing him:

“Man, it must have been a romantic weekend out, not to give any sign of life this way. Good you haven’t eloped altogether, Megatron would be pissed as hell. You have such a hell of a cocktail of chemistry floating around in you. I do not want to know what happened to you but it doesn’t look like the good old Soundwave I know.”

Normally Soundwave would shrug at this kind of comment, but now he only lay silently not reacting at all. But it woke him up somewhat.

Surprisingly enough KnockOut’s face became serious. With some unusual certainty he put his hand on the shoulder of the silent communications chief - “I never suspected you could become one of us.” - he said totally out of sudden and looked at his diagnostics thoughtfully - “I do not know what happened but I will keep what I saw for myself, no need for anyone to know unless you want to say something yourself. But be aware, this is as wonderful as dangerous. I wish I could live it myself again with this intensity I can see in you…”

KnockOut did not make it clear what he had in mind but it ringed a whole orchestra of warnings. Soundwave raised his head up and looked KnockOut deep in the eye. Despite the faceless expression on his visor, something must have hanged in the air as KnockOut nodded silently looking a bit shy after being so direct to the normally alien-cold communications chief. He wished Soundwave answered something but the slenderbot remained silent as usual. His gaze slipped along his wing to the place now almost perfectly fixed by KnockOut revealing just a minor scar. Soundwave touched it slowly and remembered the scar on Arcee’s face when she was still in stasis after the explosion. He lead his finger slowly along it and a shiver crossed his body. KnockOut saw it and understood more than words would say. - “I cannot heal you better than that. Some stuff cannot be really healed, that is a part of being one of us. But now it will transform all right”.

A moment of silence followed, then a blank reading on Soundwave’s face changed into something KnockOut never saw before. It said:

_Thank you_

And despite the unspoken opposition from the medic, the slenderbot stood up slowly from the berth, and with a heaviness that KnockOut had never seen in him, he left the med bay.

“Hwee, hwoo” - KnockOut whistled to himself thoughtfully a few moments after the door closed. “So the slenderbot has crashed himself against real life” he murmured with both compassion and satisfaction. “Good there are still doctors like me around to patch up the broken sparks. I would give a million to see him there, and another one to know who the unlucky victim was. And what happens next…” - with this thought, a slight scary shiver crossed his backstrut.

* * *

Optimus was worried. Arcee was recovering well over the past two days, but she would not speak almost at all. She was mostly recharging connected to a complex machinery in Ratchet’s medbay, while he was fixing her wounds and murmuring some curses over the her broken self repair system that did some weird welding jobs on her.

Optimus noticed also that she seemed very distant and sad when she was awake and thought nobody was looking. He knew that her laugher at Bumblebee’s and Bulkhead’s jokes was different than usual and not from deep inside. When she hugged Jack, Raff and Miko overjoyed by her comeback, she smiled genuinely but soon she drifted away in some awkward numbness all the same. He was wondering seriously what had happened in the span of around one week when she was gone, and listening to Ratchet’s grumble about some weird chemistry detected in her during first tests as well as some light but inexplicable burns on and within her body did not make him more optimistic.

The following day when everybody else was on patrol and Ratchet was busy with his scientific research he sat next to her in the medbay and finally dared to ask about the events of the past days.

“We were worried about you, you were gone for over an Earth week.” - he said with an honest voice. “What happened? I understood you were looking for something in those old mines, and it went very wrong.”

Arcee looked at Optimus, aware that this moment would had to come sooner or later. She never lied to him. She respected him probably most of all bots she had ever known. Not for his seniority and rank, but for the person that he was. Wise, strong, caring and selfless.

“I was after organicon” - she said finally in a low voice. “I did not expect it would turn out like this”.

A moment of silence filled the medbay. “I did not find it but now I am nearly sure it exists. I am sorry I did not tell you on beforehand. I should have, but I did not think you would ever allow this kind of a quest. I am sorry Optimus, I did not mean it…”

He nodded.

“I know it is a female thing. Only femmes can find and master organicon” - he looked at her with a mix of understanding and anxiety “And there is not so many femmes left around, is there” - he sighed - “But something happened. Something strange and not safe. You mentioned Soundwave. Was he following you?”

She did not know what to say. “Quite likely but not sure. I did not know he was there until the old mine caved in after those very old explosives went off. Someone must have guarded it really well back in a day. Very old type of security that I did not expect and I did not detect. I lost my communications and was pretty badly injured and trapped down there.”

Optimus nodded thoughtfully. “Are you sure it was not a Decepticon trap? Anyway, good you managed to send the rescue signal when you got out of the caves in the end.”

“I did not” - she replied to his astonishment. - “I couldn’t. Only now Ratchet has fixed my comms… I was offline with all emergency and alerting systems down”.

He looked at her without understanding. - “What do you mean? We received your signal...”

She looked at the wall and only after some silence she said - “He saved me at least twice. We did not fight each other. We worked together to get out. We spent all this time down there trying to dig us out, with our bare hands”.

Optimus looked closer at her not fully understanding what she was trying to say.

“It looks like Soundwave saved my life” - she repeated - “He caught me from falling deep down with the stones when it exploded and then he fixed me up because my self repair went down. I was leaking badly” - she paused for a moment still without looking in his eyes. - “He could have killed me but he saved me.”

The story matched with results of Ratchet’s obduction when they brought her to the base. There were some fixes on her that looked different than what any Autobot self-repair was programmed to do.

“And you are sure that was THE Soundwave? Megatron’s communications chief? So he must have had a really good reason. He does not do anything without a reason”.

“I fixed him too… he broke his wing badly. It was like none of us could be really selfish there. Something stronger took over… This is what they say organicon does to bots” - she explained and a thought struck her that at the same time - it might have not been true, no organicon was there outside the mountain and still he must have called for the Autobots to fetch her using her frequency. How else would they got the rescue signal, while she was completely out… And she was not sure how organicon could affect her this way but she clearly remembered all that she felt with Soundwave down in the cave. She shivered.

“He was nothing of what I would have ever thought of him before” she said looking at Optimus, who shook his head in disbelief.

“So you say it is not just a legend. Organicon must be a powerful weapon then” he considered. “If it changed someone like Soundwave even for a minute it must be able to do much more of which we do not even realize. But how did you get so badly offlined in the end? Ratchet suspected some very peculiar infrasound exposure that triggered some strange reactions in you”.

She looked up to the ceiling wondering how to put it and not to mess it up.

“That was later. I…ehm... being locked up together a bit long, when it turned out what the situation was, we started sort of communicating… Technically he is not much of a talker, but well, there are workarounds. And down there in the organicon radiation we changed... somehow. All this saving and helping…” - she sighed - “This is what I heard it can do” - _::but::_ , she thought to herself, _::it wasn’t supposed to do everything that happened after_ … _::_ And she realized that it was more than a thought, it was a * _hope*_...

She decided to make it short. - “For some reason I was very stubborn insisting to see his face. I teased him it did not exist. Well, that is what everybot thinks anyway. Finally he agreed that I could not see it but at least touch it to prove it was real, but I was supposed not to open my eyes. I didn't fully get why, until, ehm, I cheated out of curiosity and peeped when I thought he wasn’t looking. It smashed me out of my circuits” - she spoke even quieter than before.

“You mean you looked despite that he asked you not to? What exactly smashed you?” - Optimus now seemed really curious.

After a dragged moment of silence she replied:

“I think I saw his eyes”

* * *

 

As Soundwave went into his minimalistic quarters the door closed behind him with a slam and he opened a little power shield that allowed him some privacy, a rare asset on Nemesis, especially, ironically, with such Cons as himself around. But he was the comms chief and he knew all the others’ secrets so he could afford some of his own.

He sat down on his berth and inhaled the air into his ventilation system with a hiss. Now he could not drag it for much longer. Anyway it was a mistake to show up at the medbay in the state that he was. KnockOut obviously knew too much now, and it must have been more evident than he would have even thought. So, if he doesn't erase the newly acquired self, it was logical that something unexpected would happen with more than a high probability. This was because, fledged with his new feelings, he lost control and predictability of his own actions. He could no more trust himself, and sooner or later it meant a disaster. He knew well KnockOut was right and gave him a fair warning, in his own way. And Soundwave felt uncomfortable with it.

He remembered himself cuddling to her when she went offline, he remembered how he literally melted under the touch of her hand on his face wiring. He thought of how fascinating the experience of desire was, together with the gentleness that he developed for her in a matter of just a few orn since the emotions must have unblocked. It was like if he had his hands tied in a way he could set them free anytime but did not just do it out of some perverse pleasure.

Even now as he was sitting alone in his cold and impersonal cabin of Nemesis, he could recall all the feelings, and he could sense his own energon going madly around him at these memories. It fascinated him how everything in him changed on its own depending on what his thoughts would bring him. It was in his processor, in his RAM, it cashed everywhere around his memory structures, it occupied his registries and it was surging in his peripherals, and it was at the same time physically generating his body chemistry, affecting his hydraulics and even micro-osmosis. He just couldn't contain it.

At the same time he felt like crying, jumping, laughing and dying in turns for no reason. But most of all, he wanted to go a couple of orn back, to the same situation with her down in the caves, to finish what has begun, to get some warmth and relief. He wanted to connect with her again, tell her how to be safe with him. Oh, he would let her touch him as much as she wanted, just for the sake of the burning sensation on his spark that now wanted to be released out even at the cost of losing its amazing powers. Throughout all this torment he remained sitting motionless and silent with his optics staring blindly at his little bird-shaped symbiont, Laserbeak seated next to him on the berth.

This all did not go in line with anything. It was so powerful and he understood dangerous it was. Anyway he knew these fantasies wouldn't ever happen. They were enemies with no option of consolation, on the opposite side of the war front. And by now she should have already been found by the fellow Autobots where he left her and called for help using her frequency. Maybe she was waking up from stasis, maybe she did not even remember anything. He looked at his hands and stroke softly the head of Laserbeak, who stared back at Soundwave surprised at this unexpected generous treatment from his typically extremely restraint carrier.

With sadness in magnitude he did not realize he was capable of, Soundwave slowly sought up in his archival drives and compiled the old ancient script that had made him once what he was. He prepped the modification launcher to induce the reset and deletion sequence. It was the oldest and scariest mental surgery protocol that even Megatron would not dare to run, and of known bots, Shockwave only experimented with. And Soundwave. At the time. Long ago. And he had never really regretted that before. But now he hesitated and could not force himself to execute the command.

One last time Soundwave replayed what he remembered from the abandoned mine. Clinging to the memory he rewound some moments again and again, each time painfully feeling the loss he was just about to inflict on himself. He looked at the little mechanical head of Laserbeak and his small chest with a tiny spark in it, and he made a decision.

Carefully he reconnected with the little symbiont and made an extended sensory memory dump into his hidden secret backup site, uploading an exact copy of his own current modified CNA together with a full sensory configuration image, well coded. He leaned above the bird and whispered to him with his flat rusty voice that nobody else was allowed to hear: _“Don't you ever lose this, my spark_ ”. He stroke Laserbeak’s head again and hugged him for a moment like he was his secret treasure box, then let him disconnect from his chest making sure the avian cannot dock back until it was done.

And the he lay down on his berth, touched the scar on the wing, offlined his eyes and ran the deletion script.

* * *

  
“His optics… Is that why he hides them?” - Ratchet asked entering the room. He must have heard at least a part of their conversation, as he looked like understanding what they were talking about.

“Quite likely” - Arcee said, turning her head - “They trigger some sort of effect that blasts you when you look at it only. But not when you keep your eyes closed. Anyway it did not affect me before I opened my optics”.

“Strange… I don’t know” - Ratchet wondered looking at Optimus. Then he turned to her - “I will see what we can figure out. Rest now, and don’t worry sweetspark” - he said much softer than anyone could ever expect of Ratchet.

“Ratchet is right” - Optimus said - “You need to rest and recover now. We will worry about Soundwave’s secrets later”.

They left the room, and Arcee closed her eyes. The nervous slummer caught her again, and she dreamt of Soundwave flying in his aircraft mode surging joyfully across the clouds, bathing in the sun, swirling in the sky - like a living bird creature from the Earth, with no pragmatic purpose at all.

* * *

 

KnockOut, a little curious, a little worried, knocked to Soundwaves quarters for the third time with no reply before he decided to enter. When he finally did, he saw Soundwave on his bed, looking like in a deep stasis. The medic’s eye caught a glimpse of a few little drops of energon leaking from under his mask.

“Hmm” - he wondered. - “What happened over there” - he has never examined Soundwave under the visor and once when the mask was cracked Soundwave allowed only some external intervention and then disappeared from the medbay together with the spare mask and some utensils and materials prepared by KnockOut for the surgery and did not show up throughout the following two days until he fixed himself and recovered hidden from everybody. It was irritating as KnockOut knew the deepest wirings of Megatron while he knew close to nothing of this creepy slenderbot here. Actually, he realized, it was the first time he saw him fully unconscious.

KnockOut touched the leaked energon with his finger and smelled it. Structural analysis of its particles seemed normal but something did not fully match with, let’s say, KnockOuts gut feeling. He ran a quick scan over the motionless Soundwave and to his anxiety he found out totally nothing. The reading was empty, blank, clear. He reset the sensor tool but it did not help. He measured his own reading for comparison, and everything was normal. Then it arrived at him that the leaking energon was too fresh, too perfect, like the one still circulating in a living system and not one dried out and oxygenated outside from the body for some time.

He looked at him in disbelief and with some reluctance he touched Soundwaves neck wiring with his hand seeking out the main pipe connector running between the head and the spark chamber. It was a little warm and pulsing with a peaceful flow of energon through Soundwaves vascular system.

“What the heck?” - the doc murmured to himself.

“Yes, KnockOut, what the heck?” - an ironic low voice reached him just from behind his shoulder.

“Lord Megatron” - KnockOut turned around stunned for a nanosecond but instantly put himself together and acted as if nothing ever surprised him. - “Soundwave got sick, I’m checking on him and my scanner seems to have a bug. Gotta give it a check.”

“What do you mean he got sick?” - Megatron raised his optic ridge and flashed suspiciously with the red of his eye.

“He was on some mission and got into some kind of fight and got beaten up and exposed to unknown radiation. I patched him up a little.” - He tried to stay as close to the truth as it got. - “He is not precisely the one who would recount in details what happened” - he added excusing himself a little.

“Indeed” - Megatron nodded and then KnockOut realized a shadow was standing behind him.

“Soundwave, are you better?” - Megatron addressed the shadow while KnockOut turned around to see the big chest and the black visor of the communications officer just behind him. Soundwave nodded.

“Good” - Megatron seemed content - “Come, I need to show you something. The storage systems are glitching again on the dark energon stocks deck”.

“Soundwave, are you sure you do not want still to rest a little?” - KnockOut sounded uncertain mapping at the same time the disappearance of the energon drop from the Comms Chief's armour where he investigated it a moment ago. Soundwave looked slowly at KnockOut through his faceless visor and though the Doc saw nothing, he could bet his spark that the slenderbot winked at him from somewhere deep behind his mask.

“Okay, don’t forget the checkup tonight” - he said in Soundwave’s general direction with the most light and blase tone he could afford at the moment out of his rich repertoire.

The two mecha went away leaving him at the doorstep of Soundwaves quarter. KnockOut did not move for a moment or two and then in a silence he heard something from inside of Soundwaves room. He felt at the door and it was not locked. KnockOut made sure that those two were gone and carefully entered the communications chief’s quarters again. As he went in he saw Laserbeak in the middle of the room throwing vigorously some little colourful stones against a bigger one and cawing joyfully at them for no apparent reason. The stones fell apart in disorder, but this did not discourage Soundwave’s symbiont from the activity.

KnockOut looked at this for a moment motionlessly understanding better and better with every moment that Laserbeak was… *playing*. Having *fun*. Jumping a little and flying up with the stones, admiring them bouncing down at the floor, tilting his head to left and right looking at the rocklets that he was trying to place together. He behaved the way young Earth ravens would do when they thought no-one was watching and they had their time off from hunting. KnockOut observed that once on a patrol and wondered long what kind of sense it made for the little creatures. But those there were irrational organics and this here was Soundwave’s Laserbeak.

For some reason at this point KnockOut decided not to be so curious anymore. Whatever the slenderbot did or where he went for the last week was safer to leave to his business. He saw enough already back in the medbay witnessing Soundwave’s spark in such an unrest as if it was shock-raised from the dead almost killing its owner in turn with overcharge. He never saw such a lively, bright and pusing spark, and he would never expect it in the coldest of bots.

Silently he stepped out from the room. Laserbeak must have noticed it and he squeezed through the gap in the closing door in the last second, made a circle or two around the astonished medic blinking at him with a shiny bird-eye, and off he went right out of the open hatch between a group of Vehicons coming back from a patrol.

KnockOut ran a few steps after him and looked out through the still open door to the landing deck. The last he saw of Laserbeak was how the mechanical bird flew out right into the sky with a series of light dance-like movements, diving down and surging up, spiralling in a joyful acrobacy before he became really really small, a little dark spot on the sky among Earth birds on the horizon.

* * *

 

Arcee woke up from a restless dream in the middle of the day after another very long recharge. She was alone as everybody went on patrol. The sadness kept to her and she did not feel like getting up or doing anything. But she went to the window, to see the sunny day, and leaned her head in her hands on the windowsill, nestling her hard metal scarred cheeks in her palms, and she looked at the little dots of some distant birds playing high in the sky. They were going up and down, swirling in the wind without an apparent reason, feeling the air caressing their wings, across the sunshine, clouds and the sky.

For that moment, she wished most of all that she could fly.


	4. Things

Things did not work as they should have.

In the first place Laserbeak was gone. He just disappeared. Right after Soundwave saved the backup copy of the record of his emotions on the avian’s drives, Laserbeak just took off to the sky, last seen by KnockOut the day Soundwave woke up from stasis after resetting his systems to an earlier, unemotional version. This was the last anybody had seen or heard of Laserbeak. He literally vanished into the thin air, and Soundwave lost track of his life signal even before he noticed. It did not reappear at all, despite that Soundwave applied much stronger detectors than his own, connecting easily to the Nemesis systems, which were anyway mostly something he reprogrammed and highly developed himself while serving on the spacecraft, modernising the use of her ancient and somewhat obsolete core.

Contrary to the beliefs of its crew, Nemesis was alive, the same way as they all were. But Soundwave was the only one to realize that she carried basic consciousness in her processor and a pulsing multi-spark core distributed across her massive frame. That she had an actual *soul*. However after multiple wars and devastation she was deeply damaged beyond repair with any available means, which made her crippled and disabled in her own physical and mental processes. She could not transform at all or move based on her own decision, she could not do almost anything out of her own will. She was steered and used as a cold machine, a sparkless warship, and nobody even suspected there was something more to her. Her mind was mostly detached and drifting across some oblivions of which even Soundwave had a very vague idea. She was mostly out of touch, and her consciousness and perception woke up rarely from her stupor.

Since a long time Soundwave was her main and only true engineer. He did the closest to what could be considered as caring. After being repaired and upgraded for many vorns by Soundwave she allowed him to use her resources as he wished, do any searches he wanted and she never really interfered with whatever he did within her meager capabilities to interact. He also kept her secrets tight and never revealed the existence of her living spark to others, respecting cautiously her animalistic survival instincts. In turn, she patiently observed him in her phases of consciousness and learned him better than anyone else. Both of them had their tormented pasts and none of them were really into speaking. Both for their own reasons.

So now he sat there on the floor of her main distribution frame in any time off, night or day, whenever free of duties, pinned with his tentacles to her systems and working heavily focused on the long distance searches for the lost spark of Laserbeak.

Megatron noticed immediately the lack of Laserbeak, and Soundwave was even allowed to execute, with his permission, a couple of search missions looking for the lost familiar. With no effect. One thing that Soundwave just did not believe in was the avian’s death. The animal symbiont bond they shared was still alive and sometimes Soundwave felt things through it that reassured him of the bird’s current condition. It reassured him, but, at the same time, it put him into a great *anxiety*...

All the disturbance started already many days ago, soon after he recovered from the injuries and the system reset he ran on himself. In the beginning things seemed alright, but soon he realized it was not *all* right. Some awkwardness crept upon him residing itself uncomfortably at the back of his processor.

It begun in the dreams. He started having dreams that could not be recognised just as replayed memories but there was something more to them. The main component was anxiety. Not clear because of what, but it woke him up more than once leaving him an eerie feeling of uncertainty. Unknown. First he could ignore it quite easily explaining himself through rational understanding that unknown wakes undefined process and intuitions, which can be easily handled through probability calculus and proper decisions steering the situation into the expected results. But it did not end there. It remained in him as a sediment that wouldn’t go away with even careful and lengthy brushing by rationality.

Then the uneasiness started residing in his daytime. This should not have happened but it did. Soundwave was anxious and he realized it through a thorough analysis of the constant lack of concentration and some somatic reactions that he felt inside himself and that were far from what he typically registered as normal. Like, for example, he was finding himself processing unplanned threads that kicked in without any control and circulated around different things that made his spark pulse faster in his chest leaving him feeling somewhat empty, as if the protoflesh moved away from it opening space for unsuspected movements and pulsations. Health scans did not show any anomaly, all tissues were in place, but still his hydraulics went involuntarily tense and the spark pulse rate was higher than standard.

In the meantime Megatron was growing concerned that Laserbeak might contain sensitive information, which, if captured by the Autobots, could pose a threat to Nemesis and its crew. _::You have no idea::_ \- Soundwave thought not even being sure what exactly Laserbeak could reveal in case captured. It was all encrypted, but Soundwave also knew how much his little avian carried inside him and how much he could understand on his own.

The bond assuring that Laserbeak was good and alive sent Soundwave the strangest sensations. In the beginning it was hunger, cold and missing, a huge struggle with basic instincts of survival mixed with something very overwhelming pushing the bird to continue his getaway. Laserbeak persistently did not let himself be found and intercepted. Soundwave could only feel some residues of his sensations and it caused his empty and anxious spark feeling grow more and more.

And then, during some unimportant emergency late night briefing on the Nemesis bridge, the signal Soundwave felt inside him changed suddenly. The new signal was that of warmth, safety and feeding. He felt it right in the middle of some useless ranting from Starscream. It hit him enough that he literally froze in midst of some gesture. His mind focused totally reverting all his processing power to the strong painful sting this feeling caused inside his spark. Completely preoccupied with what happened inside him he lost track of any external signals and woke up only upon a strong ping from Megatron who stood imposingly close to him.

“Soundwave are you glitched? What's with you? Reply!” - to a question Soundwave did not even register. The emptiness in the spark chamber surged blending with the aftertaste of the sting that passed but left its bitter residue. So did Laserbeak *leave* him for good? Was it why he was silent all the way? WELL, WAS IT??? He felt even a stronger urge to track down the bird and find out what actually happened. Anxiety peaked changing into fear, and blended with some new, rather unpleasant ingredients that he still could not quite put his finger on. This was not what he wished to feel, and it scared him in the first place that he felt it at all…

* * *

Irritation joined anxiety almost invisibly. It was much harder to bear and deny. It caught him straight in the daylight where it couldn’t be so easily ignored. It crept up his limbs and sneaked under his visor like a cold tendril of an ice snake. It itched a little, made his insulation shrink tight around his cables and the energon veins narrow raising the fluid pressure uncomfortably, just below the threshold of bursting into reaction. The armour felt a little too tight and it caught him in an unnerving grip.

He did not move or even blink when he felt it coming. He just remained stale waiting with impatience until the source of the feeling ceased to exist. This time it was Megatron tirading over the recent ineffective relic searches and insufficient dedication to the cause… what cause was that again? Some big words, that suddenly made Soundwave almost sympathise with that glitched Starscream smartass for a moment. Starscream, that adventurous loser who thought he was “oh so worthy” and clever enough to replace their mighty and ruthless egotic leader. How on Cybertron that frag of a seeker could think that he could ever do better or lead anyone. Full mouthed bugged slagload of an aft that only talked, gossiped and hissed behind the back of others.

Soundwave heard too much of Starscream’s meaningless blabber and it made him just want shut his audials. Disdain was the name for the yet another feeling that emerged. How amusing. Another trophy to the collection. It made him want to switch off and leave wherever else from the bridge. And he did, kind of, switch off, pinning himself tightly to the Nemesis’ data ports with tendrils of his datacables rooted deeply in her forgiving databases that gave him food for processor, dense and intense enough to keep him occupied and not focused on the irritation and disgust.

Now again, Megatron was ranting, complaining, listening to his own voice and looking at his own reflection in the screens and visors of the Vehicon crew around. It gave him this exact restless and itchy feeling of wanting to leave. But he had to make an at least slightly attentive impression while wasting his precious time letting the clicks go by one by one and stealing from his limited allotment of privacy left for *later*. He needed desperately to devote his attention to work right now in order to finish as fast as possible what he had to do and get away to his own business waiting elsewhere. The useless remarks of the enraged boss relieving himself on everyone including him did not help at all. Or maybe it was focused specifically on him? Soundwave had to admit that his effectiveness was recently not among his best lifetime performance, and the vague vicious content spread by Megatron might have been aimed quite likely at him in particular.

Megatron preached while Soundwave feared the growth of the queue of new inbound pending data streams to be handled *later*, suspended until the moment the useless endless meeting would finally end. He could cheat a little and do this and that in the secrecy of his datacables but the necessity to keep focus on the boss made his efforts inefficient by slowing down the parallel conflicting processes.

This feeling, the impression of passing of the precious time, made him short circuit internally as he stood there waiting until the old man shuts his aft and leaves letting him do the job that was piling up.

How could he have been able to bear it so patiently at all those instances before? Well yes, there were no distractions such as he had now. Nothing to wait for. Work was essential. The common cause was imperative. Nothing else was important. And now, now there was the bizarre feeling of urgency… over Laserbeaks disappearance. And over the disturbing memory that wouldn’t get itself deleted. A memory that he found more and more pleasant. One that he actually did not really want to delete anymore. It replayed and replayed as if on a loop, first fully independently of his will, unexpectedly and just by itself, but then, with time he started to reach back to it actively and it became more and more tempting… It blended itself with the new strange incoming sensations arriving through the animalistic connection with the lost avian and caused Soundwave’s processor go round in an *emotional* cocktail sometimes. Was the deletion script obsolete? Was Soundwave himself glitched? Nothing worked as he intended and the longer passed since the return to Nemesis, the more intensity his emotions acquired, as if they were unwinding from somewhere hidden deep, that clearly did not get erased and now were infecting his mind and body filling it with unpredictability and liveliness that throbbed completely of itself, regardless how he tried to steer it or control it. Much too late he also realized that it was somewhat addictive and consumed him much more than he thought. And it wouldn’t stop…

* * *

Sadness was something that revealed to be coexisting with his system since an undefined time, as if it was always there but just went unnoticed so far. It crept under his insulation, into the protoflesh and inside the spark feeling itself at home, almost unnoticeable, as if it was programmed in there by default. Like a background colour, devoid of contrast, synchronising well with the residues of indifference that were embedded in the overall gray taste and slow pace of life on Nemesis. When it unveiled, he did not feel anything new at first, or as a matter of fact, maybe even nothing at all. What changed in his perception was just the awareness of this sadness as a background to all new feelings that joined in lately.

He did not even need to learn how to bear it. It seemed like a protocol was there in place for stifling its effects and getting back to work. Was it a part of him all that time? There was not so much to say about it, but the contrast of other emotions pulled it out, into the light, allowing him to explore its shades and patterns. What changed was that he could look at it now. And he understood its encompassing grayness was not what he was willing to dwell in forever. The new feelings were calling to break the well known monotony.

For example sweetness. Sweetness was one of those lights that cast long, textured shadows over the sadness. It was strong and sharp, and irresistable. It materialised in a dream, out of control, overwhelming but also liquid and volatile. Sweetness mixed with softness, delight and warm tickling of the body. The softness of waking up from deep recharge on a shiny blissful morning back home on Cybertron, long vorns ago, when there was for once no need to go anywhere or attend to anything special, just relax next to… someone warm? Or rather the sensation of missing that softness as he was waking up... Missing something at least… Something… Someone...

This time it smashed him hard. He woke up in the middle of the night, in the loneliness of his chambers, with a completely mistransfomed body: surface shifted inside-out in full connectivity mode, mask open, sensory system naked and exposed, defenseless, physical firewalls shut down… His face shining rainbow-glittered patterns and the bared photoflesh glowing all the same, not just the biolines but almost everything.

He jumped up from his bed like on fire, immediately feeling how hot and burning his EM field had become, and how fast his spark was racing after the dream he just had… The dream… It was her. Arcee. She was the memory. The dream… In and out. She was all over him. She was transforming from a two-wheeler into a beautifully winged flight frame acrobating in the all-embracing sky. And later… this was not the sky anymore but it was him, she was inside him, united with him, her mind filled him and he felt her thoughts and her electricity, and he fed on her spark, he was drunk with her energon… The sweetness he felt was her energon in his mouth and… or… was it his own?

And then suddenly he smelled a slight scent of someone’s presence out in the corridor. He froze. In a matter if a sheer reflex he shielded the room instantly cutting his EM field drastically to the minimum, remaining motionless, while turning the senses on high and listening to all surrounding field disturbances until he made sure the threat outside passed.

He was too overwhelmed to register who that was and if there was someone for sure but it was possible that such an intense field as his could be sensed by someone outside even if they were a total stranger... Potentially. A cold thread of fear sunk into his spark. Slag it. He cycled a deep vent across his system as he held his face in his hands and without realizing it he pressed them harshly, sinking the claw tipped fingers across the skin and the sensory mesh into the protoflesh inside, until blue drops of energon ran down one by one staining his wingtips, his chest and then thighs…

Since that night he watched his step even more, paying attention not to show anything outside, limit any of his EM field to the minimum, shielding himself discreetly and making himself scarce. At night, locked in his chamber shielded like a tank, he lay down turning up his sensory levels and tuning into Nemesis’ surveillance systems following obsessively any audio and visual signals across the ship until he powered down.

The surveillance mostly did not reveal anything special but from time to time something caught his attention and he registered it with anxiety. He had a worrying impression that the anxiety was not only his, but the big warship’s frame resonated with it back to him without being able to reveal anything in a form of a rational proof. Nothing really stood out as threatening, but what in the past he would just keep for the record and largely ignore, now made him uneasy. It became personal.

Nobody ever stopped by his doorstep again though. He hoped he was wrong from the start, but that person could have well realized he was suspecting something after he shut down his field so abruptly. Recordings in Nemesis’ vast memory could be tampered with too, he wasn’t the only one who could do such things after all. He had to watch his back. Nothing was evident anymore.

These days he also realized that he started to *listen* to the actual content Megatron’s ranting instead of ignoring and just recording it as usual. He did not think of it until now, but he suddenly understood that in fact in his loyalty and automated dedication he did not really *listen* to the warlord throughout the years. He just took it for granted. He cut off the sensory data from his speeches and only filtered keywords, tasks and concrete facts, without bothering for any bigger picture, that he had anyway of his own, his own interpretation, as if in denial, sticking to the old memory data from the past where things really made sense. When it was about the society, against the dictatorship of the Primes, against energon rationing, against social segregation... What got him so stuck in that old picture until now? He wondered. Now in his irritation he opened up again and started listening once more, his audials grasping the tone and the deeper meaning and his sensors reading the EM field of the leader with no filtering, as if they both first met and things were still really interesting.

This was fresh. This was astonishing. This was unnerving. What flowed now to him was… illogical. This discovery woke him somewhat up. It was all sheer bullshit. This reflection came across to him as his processor started putting together the words and connected emotions with the knowledge base he managed to collect and distill across the vorns. Things just did not get to match anymore.

“Why are you staring so, Soundwave? You think you’re masked so I don’t see?” - Megatron approached him in slow steps. Soundwave did not move a bit, but at the same time his simulated calmness must have given a weird impression, as Megatron continued stepping even closer, much too close for comfort - “Getting sloppy yourself since you lost your birdie? Should I think you are getting sentimental these days like that glitch Starscream over his forsaken clones?” - sarcasm leaked from every word. - “We need results, and fast!”.

Soundwave nodded slowly at Megatron and compressed his field as tightly as he could around him as the big steel-grey mech was leaning over him just a few inches away. They looked each other in the eyes within the shrinking distance between them and Soundwave felt for the first time since eons that this could also be a kind of battle, a tough one at that. He felt the warnings around him shouting with red exclamation marks against Megatron’s freefloating but tense field. The both mecha froze in front of each other for a moment. Soundwave did not back out. He did not move a slightest bit. He felt the infringing field and unbearable closeness everywhere, as if he got invaded with the bigger mech’s vicious and powerful presence but he did not even blink under the mask. He forced his systems in place, with an effort that he experienced as intense tension almost stopping his ventilation.

Vehicons stared startled as the lord turned his irritation against the untouchable so far communication chief, famous for the cold loyalty and stone-hard position as Megatron’s right hand and most trusted officer. The bossbot must have realized that glare from the audience.

~“Treat it as a warning.”~ he commed Soundwave on private channel as he stepped back sending him an ambiguous glance. Then he continued yelling at the rest of the Vehicons, likely missing the currently absent Starscream who was a perfect target for his virulence as he never missed a rewarding reaction of upset and sneaky servility.

Finally Megatron backed out and pretending indifference he turned to the exit in the same slow, unpleasant pace. Soundwave followed him with a steady gaze, still keeping himself tense, field tightly bound almost within him, when the boss turned back again and added with a strangely happy voice:

“Shockwave is coming to visit. There is some urgent research to be done. Maybe he will help to find your lost avian, who knows.”-  Then he walked out leaving Soundwave alone among a number of cold-sparked drone-like figures of Vehicons who looked at him now with wide open optics. He could feel how they were comming each other behind his back in awe over the just witnessed scene. He turned back to his work slower than intended, sliding his visored gaze across each and every staring face, swiping them with a concentrated EM field of cold anger and seeing how they all suddenly pretended nothing ever happened.

But behind his motionless composure a thin, cold and wet layer of fear nestled in the depths of the empty docking ports abandoned by his only friend, Laserbeak.

And in the late night, when falling in recharge, not sure if still hearing it through his surveillance or already dreaming it, some distant Vehicon’s words flashed through his RAM:

“Do you still think that blasted Soundwave sees and hears everything?”

“Eee, not so sure anymore. He’d know by now about all this highgrade we have stocked here hehehe.”

“Yeah, relax, it seems he is daydreaming half of the time. He looks like he’s losing it…”

No, things did really not work as they should have.


	5. Fugitive

Laserbeak was tired. He was lurking in a tree hidden deeply between branches observing the perimeter around him. It was night and it was cold. Darkness was not a problem for the little avian, but the prolonged solitude was leaving its stamp on his worn out symbiont system.

Since many days he did not have a chance to fuel-up or even recharge properly. Ever since he left Nemesis a strong sense of urgency pushed him to complete a task that he did not fully understand. On the level of instinct he comprehended the communication with Soundwave that happened unconsciously, outside of the reasoning part of their processors. His emotional intelligence read the whole situation back on Nemesis assigning meanings to the seemingly irrelevant gestures. And it formed into a task - a challenge of bringing something of utter importance into the future, into the purely animalistic chain of evolution. Something that was not safe on Nemesis.

“ _Don’t you lose this, my spark_ ” - Soundwave said to him when he recorded his deleted memories. And Laserbeak was not going to lose nothing. Even though he was just a small avian, his instincts were those of survival and those of keeping his precious information cargo from oblivion.

He browsed for hints in the encrypted memories, but only ghosts and visions came across from the strangely coded content. One of the intangible leads he found most useful turned out to be a smell. It gave him a sense of direction.

Smell as a sense was not valued or taken serious on Cybertron in its dense atmosphere full of whatever gases existed in the periodic table. But on Earth, in its very specific clear and odourless nitrogen-oxygen-carbondioxide air, it was easily noticeable and possible to follow from a distance. At least for him. And nobody cared for shielding it, contrary to any electromagnetic residues… So, it was a smart guess and it worked out just as soon as he started doubting in any possibility of finding his target - the owner of the smell that he identified among the memories he was entrusted.

It was not easy to be followed, but scanning large landscapes with patience and persistence there was a chance, which he put his trust in against all odds. And now, he was finally near, he knew it.

But now, he *really* needed to dock, and there was no-one to dock to. For a small symbiont like him not connecting to his carrier for that long could result in a permanent dysfunctionality or even death. He needed energon badly, he needed rest, he needed warmth. His whole little body was longing to the safety of home, but he could not return to Soundwave until he has completed this strange self-imposed mission.

Although in his symbiont bird head he did not fully understand the gravity of the consequences that might follow from the breach he committed by getting away, he was smart enough to understand that he was breaking the rules in force on Nemesis and after the decision was once made it was safest to stay out of range and not to show himself back on the warship until he had prospects to solve the matter successfully. Even if it meant that he was hungry and cold, and the distance from his carrier ached almost physically.

He tilted his little head to the side and immersed himself into a slumbery hum of the call he was pursuing. The old industrial area in front of him was drowned in deep recharge, nothing was moving save for some cars driving along a road in a distance. A lonely tinkering streetlight was blinking at him across the leaves of his miserable tree, reflecting across mirrors of broken windows in the old abandoned factory buildings. He was close, just a little bit, and maybe he could rest and at least recharge for a moment… But now it was time to go further.

* * *

  
Arcee woke up in the middle of the night. Darkness nestled in the corners of her room and all the base was in deep recharge. Impermeable silence was filling her quarters. It was calm but she could hear her spark pulsing anxiously inside her chest. She was not sure if it was caused by another dream or there was really something to worry about with her health. She touched her chest and felt on the armour plating venting heavily. _::Tomorrow, tomorrow I will talk to Ratchet finally…::_

Then she looked around but saw nothing special. It just felt cold from a breeze coming through an open factory window. Silvery moonlight was shining on her across the room. She tried to curl up to catch some warmth but it did not work. Eventually she got up from the berth, closed the window and dug out an old big blanket in addition to a couple of pillows used by the human kids when they were occasionally staying in their base. She wrapped herself in it. The blanket was not really big enough for her but when she curled up into a little ball it covered her somehow.

Lying on her berth and trying to power down again she remembered the dream that woke her up - the same one she had repeatedly since several nights. She dreamt she had wings. Not those like regular seekers had, out on their back, but those that were her arms at the same time. Long, slender and thin. She knew only one flight frame that was built like this. *Him*… In the dream she was lying on her back and couldn’t move too well. It felt as if the wings were blocking her from turning on the side, and when she managed to turn and curl up they quickly went numb and somehow squeezed under the weight of her body. It was so suggestive that the feeling of numbness kept to her long after she woke up.

She had no rational idea how this was possible. Another thing that made her anxious was the type of consciousness that she felt about words and talking. Never before she had felt reluctant about speaking. She also never before felt alienated and so deeply focused, almost in a meditative state just out of the blue. In such moments she felt like if she was falling into an empty pit of darkness. It was a really strange feeling and took a moment to shake off.

There was yet something more in the recurring dream: she felt a little warm weight on her chest, as if someone or something was clinging to her closely. This passed whenever she woke up but sometimes a delicate itching remained in the place where she felt the warmth. To her surprise she noticed once that her frame paint was uneven and fragmented, as if it was damaged into a net of little regular scars that tried to self-repair during recharge. Like it tried to transform in a weird way, not really suited for her body built. Was it because of the dreams she was having? Did her body make her surprises of which she was not really consciously aware?

More than a few times a thought passed through the back of her processor that she should mention that to Ratchet, but she shook it off as a bad idea, putting it off in time again and again every day. Somewhere inside she had a suspicion that it was due to what happened in the abandoned mine and she did not feel the urge to talk about it with anyone. So she tried to examine it herself just to realize that indeed something was changing, and her system was building some connectivity nodes just flat under her plating. That was weird. She had no slightest idea what that was and it freaked her out. Ironically it also made her delay the decision to talk to Ratchet day by day. _I will show him tomorrow…_ And tomorrow continuously persisted to be the next day after today.

In general, since the moment she was rescued from the cave adventure she felt uneasy and a bit out of place. After short recovery she started to go on patrols and missions fairly fast, she even hoped for a battle to kick someone’s ass and maybe this way let go the tense feelings, but so far this did not help too much. It was difficult to keep herself busy and there were few distractions only, despite that the whole team seemed to be supportive and trying to entertain her. Bulkhead even painted a painting for her - a portrait which did not resemble her too much but was indeed beautiful in colour. She played games with Bumblebee, Smokescreen and the human kids, once even she went speeding with Jack despite that she promised herself more than once not to give him any bad example. Everybody was caring and present, and she was grateful to them. However she remained distracted and could not get her thoughts off the haunting memories.

She was afraid to admit but the truth was she could not stop thinking about Soundwave at all. She denied it in front of herself and tried to lock it out as much as she could but it did not really work properly. In reality she felt angry with herself for her moment of weakness and spoiling everything by opening her eyes when they kissed. She knew he did not really tell her why she should have kept them closed, but after all she felt his intentions as if he poured this knowledge right into her head through his awkward way of communication. Like an infection, it irritated her spark into pulsation and kept returning in the form of a vision of two red burning optics and the almost tangible flickering of her fingers who strangely enough remembered the soft living textures of his face. The memory fried her system, warmed her faceplates and made her want to squeeze all her hydraulics. These thoughts caused her to glitch and freeze, made her soft and warm inside... and were driving her mad.

She closed her optics trying to keep the memories away, keeping the eyes shut so tightly until she felt them hurt. The mech was Decepticon, comms chief of Megatron, one of his most trusted and dangerous officers. An enemy. A hopeless case. This what happened, what put her in this state, must have been a glitch, something strange dwelling in that accursed forsaken mine. It could have been organicon perhaps, some awkward thing locked down there that was supposed never to surface again. But it did come back all the time, and despite her hopes, it actually became stronger instead of weaker with time and she felt it to be disturbing and somewhat painful. She *missed* Soundwave’s silent presence around her and she could not help it whatever she was trying to make herself think.

 _::Could he feel the same?::_ She tried to erase the question as soon as it appeared. No. No. No. He could not. _::Could he?::_

This silvery night the feeling caught up with her again, making her feel even more cold and alone. She did not see a small shadow that sneaked in through the open window before she closed it and who now was watching her sleek and proportionate silhouette lying curled up on the berth. Crimson-red eyes were gleaming low, almost invisible, light hidden deep in the darkness. These eyes were full of relief, waiting patiently for her to fall into recharge again.

After some time, when her system sounds stabilized suggesting power down, the shadow cut the air stealthily towards her and landed on her berth just as close as within reach of a hand. The smell was right and it was strong. Now he was at the source. The crimson eyes blinked a little confirming her state of recharge and then he moved another step closer running a quick compatibility scan. Still in slight disbelief for the positive result the little beak nudged delicately on her as if trying to find out physically if everything was in place as the scan showed. The sleeping warmth of her frame was calming and reassuring. The EM field was now dreamy, safe and protective.

He pulled the edge of the blanket aside and waited a little, then he investigated her slightly peeling paint on the uncovered chest. He picked a little on it to see if she would wake up, ready to escape at any time. She did not. She just moved a bit in her recharge murmuring something incomprehensibly.

Slowly the shadow sneaked carefully under the blanket and sat there a little for a longer while to see if anything happened. Nothing happened. The silence surrounded them tightly and trustworthily. He pressed a bit more to her frame and it felt a bit like home. Her warmth was good. Her energon was flowing peacefully inside the protoflesh down under the armour. It was much against any rules and against any reason, but he felt it was right, this was the next logical step dictated by the memories embedded in him. He was now almost sure that he found what he was looking for. Deep inside his bond he formulated a warm mute apology to Soundwave as he carefully placed himself in the docking position feeling softly on her recharging chest. Now or never… it will show if he actually reached what he wanted to find.

Silently, and without waking her, her armour plating surface opened up uncovering new, freshly grown docking ports. Shiny and unused, but already developed enough to make docking possible and to ensure the necessary basics that a carrier could provide to a symbiont. Energon and safety. The shadow closed its optics in content. This was it. A quiet click of the established connection echoed across the room. His hunger was over. Slowly her system supplies started feeding him as if he was just another limb of her body.

Through a blurry curtain of her powered down systems Arcee dreamt of Soundwave walking towards her slowly from a black corner of the room and reaching out his wing to touch her. She literally felt the touch and, falling even deeper in recharge, she enjoyed it as the blurry winged silhouette lowered itself to the level of her berth and then the masked face pressed gently to her chest. She purred silently like a cat in her dream and the warm place on the armour somewhere next to her spark responded also with a much quieter, calm, wistful purr. She reached out her arm unconsciously hugging the warmth of the little avian to her chassis, wrapping a piece of the blanket around him. Now she recharged really deeply and peacefully. For the first time since many nights her hand did not pass through the hollow vision of the silent mech but she could feel something tangible and it was soothing.

* * *

  
The morning came eventually. It greeted her with sun as she woke up, well recharged but strangely hungry. She did not remember last time she felt so hungry, well and alive. Still sleepy but a bit more conscious, stretching her numb arms, Arcee moved on to the main hall with a single objective in her mind - get some energon.

She entered silently, passing the large open opsroom door where Optimus was busy with some databases, and directed herself towards the storage room next to the medbay where Ratchet was working on something. Bumblebee was occupied playing games online most likely with the kids while Bulkhead and Smokescreen were nowhere to be seen. Not wanting to disturb and not in a mood for a chat she decided to sneak past them, get an energon cube and get back to her room.

The plan did not work out. As she moved along the medbay door she heard Ratchet’s grumpy voice from behind her.

“Hi Arcee, good morning would be a nice thing to hear”.

“Good morning” - she replied in a sleepy voice turning around to the medic. Then her optics met Ratchet’s wide open ones, shining a strange light and getting bigger and bigger.

“Arcee” … “Are you…” - He began with a throaty voice. - “...holy scrap!!!”

Everybody suddenly dropped what they were doing and all looked centrally at her. Bulkhead materialised from the energon stock room.

“Arcee…???” - Optimus lifted his optic ridge in disbelief gazing across the opsroom door.

“Mhm?” - Arcee turned around to him.

“No way, that’s Laserbeak!!!” - Ratchet pointed at her.

“What???” - Arcee totally did not get what they were talking about. She stepped back looking around to see what was that they were glaring at.

“You got Laserbeak” - Ratchet uttered something that was supposed to be an explanation.

“Where??” - She still did not understand what they were talking about.

“On you!” - Bumblebee beeped in awe.

Arcee looked down and saw it. A little mechanical eye blinked at her just from below her chin as Laserbeak, seeing the five pairs of wide open optics directed at him undocked and took off up to the ceiling settling himself under the roof and looking curiously at everyone. After the open eyes and gaping mouths first followed him up, they turned back to Arcee’s chest that was automatically transforming from the docking position back to her normal shape.  She felt a little itching sparking of her frame, but not more than that. She covered her chest with her hands and felt the quick movement of transforming plating under her fingers. Ratchet’s keen optic caught this mechanical movement watching in astonishment how the little bits and pieces of Arcee’s armour moved around placing themselves in transformation.

“Aaaawww” - he gaped even more - “You… He… has been docking in you… like… the way he does with… Soundwave... now… how is this possible?”

Nobody even raised a servo, all stunned, they did not know what they were really looking at. Arcee covered her chest with her hands even closer, with open mouth and big optics.

“The base is supposed to be shielded” - Optimus woke up first after Ratchet and spoke in a calm and orderly voice. - “We have to check how he got here. And if he transmitted any signal to the Cons. This might mean our base is burnt and we need to evacuate immediately”.

Arcee stood there where she was with a hand on her chest in the docking place of Laserbeak touching her peeled paint on the otherwise glant and plain chassis. She recalled the warmth that took away her cold last night, and a tremendous stream of processes overflew her head. Laserbeak, docking, her, connectivity nodes growing, Soundwave in a dream… Holy scrap… She almost lost her balance leaning against the wall and swiping the room with an unconscious gaze. This wasn’t just happening for real… She must have been still recharging and she would wake up in a moment.

“Arcee we need to talk… *now*” - Optimus walked up to her slowly. And, looking at Laserbeak, he added - “Can you… catch him?”.

Arcee looked up again at the avian and her optics met the shiny eyes of Laserbeak. She felt something tickling inside her spark, as if a connection established for a blink of an eye. The bird tilted his head a little looking at her with much more than animal understanding. Then he floated down graciously and, to her astonishment, settled himself back on her chest in a seamless motion. Her body responded without her control. The armour transformed to accept him, and in a brief moment he was docked comfortably around her chest, perfectly fitting in, as if he were part of her ever since the beginning.

Arcee’ optics were now the widest and brightest in the room and since the beginning of the whole scene she did not say anything, stunned probably most of all of them.. She looked with an absent gaze at the others and at her own chest. Finally she uttered one word with a very quiet voice, but enough for Optimus and Ratchet to hear and understand.

“Soundwave…”

Optimus took a couple of steps towards her while the others still stood there gaping.

“Come on Arcee, it is important”.

* * *

Soundwave was again sitting in Nemesis’ main distribution frame under the pretext of doing some maintenance of the warship which nobody really understood anyway. In fact he was working out experimental searches and calculations this time trying to use her massive computing resources to explore… himself. Patiently going through everything he did so far he was looking for gaps in the codes he applied and the sequence of the emotion deletion protocols. But he could not find any. It should have worked and it evidently did not. Well, in the beginning it did, slightly, but the effect of the script seemed to reverse, and all the symptoms he experienced proved more and more that the whole operation lead to nothing of what he initially intended. As if the virus of emotions had some sort of spores, a survival form implanted in him, that now did not wish to remain dormant but that kept growing back and alive in his system.

Fear and curiosity were those elements that lead him to deepen the exploration. He understood the risk if someone else but him found the searches he made in Nemesis’ systems it could be more than heavy in consequences, but he just could not let go. Something compulsively pushed him to find out. Maybe one of the many reasons was that he actually started enjoying his dangerous state that opened vast oceans of unknown in front of him, but he was fearing that without control it could backfire in a yet not clear way. And he needed to find an effective way to hide it, pretend nothing changed. And maybe this way he could find a key to locating Laserbeak.

Megatron’s patience seemed to have been recently quite increasingly stretched on the Laserbeak issue, and Soundwave did not wish to have the value of the lifelong loyalty put into a test. The leader was also visibly annoyed about Soundwave’s lack of concentration and suspected something fishy about not being able to find the neither dead nor alive avian and thus getting too curious on the past events that led to this. This had to be addressed....

~/ _You have changed/_ ~ a voice suddenly sounded in his head. He almost jumped in the first moment until he realized who that was speaking to him. He froze as he was sitting in his place and felt the connection with Nemesis he used for data processing almost itching his processor. Silence filled the room but his thoughts suddenly crowded jamming his head. He raised his hands to his helm and shut his optics tight under his visor.

A long while passed until he could hear his own low automated monotonous voice speak aloud echoing across the data room with more than a huge amount of doubt:

“ _But I deleted it._ ”

 _~/The toughest thing is to realize and accept who we really are/~_ he heard in his head again. That was a lot of communication as for Nemesis. He almost felt her condensing all her powers in an enormous effort of passing the message she wanted to convey. Silence fell again for a long while as he felt the remains of his own sound waves bouncing back from the walls, the ceiling and the floor.

~ _/”Some stuff cannot be really healed, that is a part of being one of us”/_ ~ a recording of KnockOut’s words poured right into his head and twisted in him like a knife.

 _~/Where do you think Laserbeak is.../_ ~ Nemesis pushed the last message with almost exorbitant effort.

He sat in silence for a longer while. He was listening to himself: to his own spark pulse, his ventilation and to the indiscernible buzzing of his own electric circuits. After days of futile searches he realized he had the answer from the very beginning. He remembered well the sudden change of the feeling inside the symbiont bond. Of course he knew where Laserbeak was. There was only one place he could be.

Soundwave touched his chest in the place of the symbiont’s docking ports. It felt empty and incomplete, as if something more than Laserbeak was gone.

For a moment he hugged his winged arms around himself, and, without realizing, a few oily tears rolled down from under his mask. They burned his cheeks and tasted solvent at his mouth, slid down his armour, while Nemesis silently watched and listened, running her lazy calculations in the extent of the much larger world that she dwelled in.

She also watched him getting up after a while, feeling his field strengthening up again and densifying with a decision forming into a plan that pulsed and grew on him filling the room with a new colour of extreme intensity. It shone around him for a brief moment before being coiled back inside his spark. But she still felt it resonating, after he dried the tear remains from his armour and left the room sending a delicate ping of a virtual hug filled with grateful excitement across the massive databases and processor networks of the paralysed warship.

In the last huge effort she gently replied back almost imperceptibly filling it with all the warmth that she could find in her huge inert body.

 _::Lots of hurt is coming…::_ she thought scanning through the very light, slightly recognisable turn of the reality’s tracks. _::But there must be comfort in the end…::_


	6. Sparkling

She sat down on her berth, holding an empty energon cube. Optimus sat next to her with a strange look in his optics. He seemed to be weighing his questions with some thoughtful consideration. Arcee did not rush him, and she did not start talking herself either. After the first shock and the streak of strange excitement, she would rather be alone now to calmly analyse her situation and all the storm of feelings around it.

She looked at Laserbeak docked on her chest. She felt the energon connection established between them and she realized that she was now feeding him on her own systems and that she had some sort of understanding and knowledge flowing from him in exchange. It felt a little strange but not alien, and his presence was rather pleasant. She could not comprehend the flow that she was receiving, but she was clearly fed with some data in an ancient animalistic way, that she could not really read or understand. It felt like a message that he tried to pass to her, on a totally different level, that passed around her processor but never fully went inside there. But what she felt most, was the bird’s EM field intertwining with hers, and she *knew* his emotions that were calm now but deep in the background of the field there was a sense of urgency, related to her. 

Did he make her his temporary carrier? But how? Why? Did Soundwave tell him to? That thought gave her shivers of anxious excitement. Would he do it? For Primus sake, she *so* did not know what to think about it, if this was the case. If it was for spying, he would have never done it in such an open way, would he? So recklessly disclosing himself? After all, reasonably, he might have expected that the Autobots would catch and lock Laserbeak right away disabling his location and transmission services… And how did he even know where to find her? If the Cons knew the location of their base, wouldn’t they have used that already? It was clear that one of their major objectives was to do away with the Autobots. Nothing like that happened so far… So no, it could not have been intended to do her harm. Was it a kind of an awkward gift? But why this way, without any contact, without explanation... What a hell of a creature would Soundwave be to even think of something like this…? He was far from regular, but who was he eventually? Well, he was someone she once felt like kissing… She answered herself. And that was it, wasn’t it? A deep sigh escaped her voice box.

She felt lost and totally restless now. She wasn’t even a carrier so how was this technically possible? How would her body even know how to dock the avian? It seemed to be changing over the last weeks though. The itching and the connectivity and everything she experienced… How? Or did she have a capability she never knew about but it surfaced now, after their encounter? 

She recalled from the cave that Laserbeak was not even there. He must have got locked out by the explosions and maybe he waited patiently outside for his master … carrier ...friend?... And she and Soundwave did something… maybe more than she thought.

“Should we talk with him around?” - Optimus asked looking at Laserbeak.

Blinking the little red eyes at her, the avian was docked on her tightly and she had a feeling that he would not easily let go. Something in the way he was attached told her that they would more likely need to saw him off by force or he would not undock willingly at this moment. Unconsciously she stroke Laserbeak on his head while she looked up at Optimus nodding to his question. 

“If there is something to know about this situation, he knows everything for sure” - she replied in a slightly trembling voice. 

Optimus looked thoughtfully at the duo next to him. He also wondered since a long moment about the real reason of Laserbeak’s sudden appearance and Arcee’s capability to dock him. He did not really feel like discussing the latter at the moment, but then this would surface now or later anyway… He let it be for the time being, and started from a different angle.

“I will have to address this somehow… But there are things I do not really understand. Do you have any idea why and how Laserbeak sought you up here and what does it serve for?” - he asked spreading his servos in expression of uncertainty: “I think it has to do with your last explore. Is there anything that I should know apart from what you told me already? Anything else that happened which could draw Laserbeak here to you?”.

She looked down on Laserbeak and then on Optimus again. She weighed the answer carefully in her thoughts and then she made a decision.

“Well, I kissed him. That is… Soundwave” - she said simply, just to get it over with.

Optimus backed out a little in surprise and he considered her words in silence. He did not comment for a longer moment, however his eyes questioned  _ what do you mean exactly? _

“Like humans do. You know. His real face...” - she went further bravely feeling her faceplates heating up. She would turn red if she could. So she was looking down at the floor carefully examining the dust in the corner. - “It must have built a connection…” - she felt her voice becoming rusty - “and I had these thoughts, like something transmitted… between us”.

A longer silence filled the room. Finally Optimus asked the uncomfortable question.

“Did you… do anything… else?” - his voice staggered a little. 

“Like sparkbonded?” - she asked in direct words and felt Laserbeak move slightly under the touch of her hand still stroking his little helm - “No… not really... I do not think so” - she felt embarrassed and scared suddenly. How could she be not sure of something like that? Everybody knew what it meant. Usually… But what happened there was unusual, so little and so much at the same time, she did not know what to think. They did not do more than just… kissed and hugged each other for a short moment before she passed out. Sometimes there was more physical contact in a mere fight or a combat training with the others at the base. But at the same time, she did not remember the last time she experienced something so intense. As if someone put all passion of the world into a little box and tried to contain it in there while it was boiling hot to get out through narrowest openings… And could she truly say she knew what happened after she passed out?... 

And why would Optimus even ask that? It was totally not like Optimus. Did it have anything to do with the possible transfer? It normally never would… it would be a recreational activity, something pleasant, exciting, mechanical, emotional maybe… And they did not even get time to talk *at all*, she realized. How could Soundwave have found out anything from her? She was about to get upset but there was something very strange in the way Optimus looked at her. As if he knew something.

Optimus vented deeper before he continued. “I am sorry to have asked that. I am *not* curious, I do not want to get into your private affairs… I just need to make sure if we are safe. You were really acting strange the last days and now you have Laserbeak with you and he behaves as if you were Soundwave yourself” - Optimus tried to explain in an uncomfortable voice looking at her hand caressing the little avian - “It might be… something unusual, you see. Sometimes a connection can get established… he is a carrier with supreme surveillance skills and you can now carry Laserbeak, it is meaningful... If you two were ...close, there is a potential of establishing a link, of a rather unknown nature. I am sorry again to have asked this, I really do not want to infringe your privacy Arcee… But he is a dangerous Decepticon and you could have been so tricked”.

She looked at him with strange eyes. 

“Is there anything that *I* should know?” - she asked in turn feeling how something got upset inside her again.

Optimus looked at her hesitantly. - “Well, there were some very rare known cases” - he said really slowly - “of extreme bonding between some individuals… that could result in deep core data transfers. At some point scientists tried to develop information gathering techniques based on research of this phenomenon, but it was extremely difficult due to the rarity and specificity of it… Nevertheless there was at least one outcome of that research, a tool called cortical psychic patch allowing for a certain extent of forced mind reading and memory drainage. It was seen as a potential intelligence gathering tool by the military, but the research was immediately banned and discontinued for the extensive infringement of privacy, possibility of personality changes, consciousness manipulation, and potential processor damage its use turned out to entail. Currently its use is strictly forbidden, but you may imagine what it means  _ forbidden _ or  _ banned _ right now when there is no-one to enforce it...”

Arcee sat silent next to him listening to all that. She went through her own questions, including such ones as  _ “And what does it have to do with me?”  _ or _ “What exactly makes you think that I might have been subject to that or something similar?”  _ but she knew the answers already. Or the probabilities. She leaned her head on her hands slowly feeling a heavy weight inside her dragging her down to the floor and taking away any remains of her morning spirit as if someone drained her empty of energon. No… it could not be… 

In a last desperate attempt, she replied, more to herself rather than to Optimus - “But it does not explain *why* Laserbeak is here” - her voice sounded now really odd and weak - “and I really … do not … think … we…”  _ ::sparkbonded::  _ \- she did not finish the sentence when her voice broke down into pieces. A silent sob ran through her body shaking her frame and taking away her voice. Then, another one followed and yet another one, and then it burst out and she could not stop it anymore. It was like a wave of storm passing through her, a strong wind almost collapsing her to the ground, acid rain dissolving her to plain rust within a blink of an eye. Everything she hindered so far, was suddenly out, flowing like a boiling river that broke a dam up in the high mountains and now was claiming valleys, villages and towns on its way, turning them into metal scrap pushed forward in its mighty waves into an abyss of nothing. 

Optimus looked at her with deepest compassion and worry. He did not mean to cause that. Slowly he reached out his arm and embraced her with a fatherly gesture feeling how her whole slim frame was trembling as she leaned on his big shoulder. He hugged her closer to his chest and whispered - “My little sparkling…”. - Then he just held her close and let her cry. And she cried and cried in almost total silence, only with the sound of her ventilation systems in a torn, broken rhythm. Feeling her spark pulsing much too fast and much too frantic, he realized that, despite holding on strong all the time, she was lost and troubled since long days and now this situation was something like the last straw. 

“It’s gonna be all right” - he comforted silently without believing in his own words as he stroke her delicately holding his arm around her shoulders. She nodded slightly or maybe it was just her helm trembling in the waves of the sobbing shiver. And then, filled with a wave of a warm feeling he impulsively *kissed* very delicately the top of her head. He did not know where this came from, and if she even realised what he did. Ashamed a little with this human gesture that also reminded him much too much of his own past, he raised his head up a little, but did not let her go. She was always like a sparkling to him, or more - an independent and adult daughter that he secretly kept under his wing for some good years now, a descendant of his ideals and his dreams. And even now, whatever was happening, somehow he trusted her almost unconditionally. And he hated to see her like this, wishing with all his spark to figure out a solution.

Finally she started calming down very slowly from her outburst. He felt her spark pulse become slower and more metric again, and the frame stabilising. 

He did not really know for how long they were sitting like this. Exhausted, she must have fallen into recharge and he was afraid to wake her up. He was listening to her systems humming quietly until someone knocked at the door. Optimus raised himself very slowly putting her carefully down on the berth, and his eyes glanced at the rolled blanket next to the wall. Laserbeak was clinged to her chest looking powered down. Almost fully black navy blue and dark violet with some silver lining, the colours of the avian were sticking out from her overall design, but he fitted neatly in her shape. Optimus sighed heavily. The similarity to a long lost memory hit him again. So it *could* eventually happen. Arcee got a symbiont, out of the blue, or out of the sky, even. Optimus wondered for a second what was going to come next, and, with no clear conclusion, he eventually covered them both with the blanket. She purred quietly and embraced Laserbeak protectively, turning a little but not waking up. 

Optimus left her room to Ratchet waiting patiently outside the door. The two mecha looked at each other and moved towards the medbay.

“She powered down and fell into recharge” - Optimus said quietly when they were walking across the corridor. 

“Mhm” - Ratchet murmured. - “So do you know what exactly happened?”

Optimus did not reply. They passed the ops room door somewhat avoiding the others who sent them anxious and curious looks stopping for a moment what they were currently doing.

“We also need to get hold of Laserbeak for examination and disable his location services at least. Primus knows what this all can result in. I checked the base shields and security systems and there seems not to be any breaches or uncontrolled transmissions going through. His energy signature is also not visible outside. As a matter of fact his readings are well synchronised with the rhythm of Arcee’s life signal now, with no visible sign of Decepticon signature, which I still need to confirm though.” 

Optimus nodded as they entered the medbay and closed the door behind them. - “I think that won’t be necessary…” - he said slowly - “I think he will not reveal Arcee’s location.”

“What makes you think that?” - Ratchet stopped in half step, surprised.

“She is his carrier now. She feeds him, he will protect her.”

“Not longer than a few days ago he was docking like that with that sneaky Decepticon communications bot, what makes you think that he will not get back to him once he achieves what came here for? This is certainly some kind of a trap, don’t tell me now that you disagree.”

“That’s not how symbionts work” - Optimus sounded strangely convinced.

“How do you know that if I may ask?” - Ratchet was getting irritated.

“They are strongly bonded. They do not ever leave without a good reason. Well, they do go alone here or there, but they *never* choose a new carrier without something really important driving them. Either something must have gone really wrong for his previous carrier or...” - he weighed a possibility, but did not finish.

Ratchet looked at Optimus with a very special look and murmured:

“Or what ...?”

Optimus did not answer, so Ratchet continued:

“And since when are you an expert on symbionts? I’m not even asking how on Cybertron is Arcee suitable for a carrier. Obviously now I can see she’s got all the right slots and everything. How didn’t we know that before? And even she herself looked surprised.”

Optimus kept stubbornly silent.

“Ok you do not have to answer, but there is something you’re not telling me obviously, and please don’t even try to deny, you know I won’t buy it.” - Ratchet now was looking the big mech straight and deep in the optics. Optimus shrugged a little as if trying to shake away a feeling similar to desert sand biting into his joints and amour. It took him another moment of silence before he finally replied.

“I have good reasons to believe one of her ancestors was a carrier too. It was very long ago, but it might explain a few things.”

Ratchet nodded slowly.

“Still not the whole truth, but at least something.” - he shook his head a little, but did not press it anymore, adding something from himself instead. - “Well, Arcee was an intelligence officer once too” - he admitted. Optimus nodded knowing the story more than well. Ratchet continued - “And she had her memory deleted in defense against an unauthorised transfer at that time. But she was then fully recovered. Almost fully… you never know what is gone if you have no proper baseline, these were also different days... I was her medic then… you know how it went...” 

“I know…” - Optimus did not really look as if he listened.

“What is it?” - Ratchet knew his friend much too well to make this skip his attention. 

Optimus kept silent for a click longer, then he shook his head a little and looking at Ratchet with a helpless expression, he finally said:

“She is so hopelessly in love with him.” 

Ratchet looked at him in contemplation and replied slowly - “Love… is a big word. Consequential. Are you sure this is what you mean to say?” 

Optimus did not answer again for a while.

“She did not say it.” - he replied finally - “But if you have seen her… She totally fell apart and it was so much not like her.”

“What did you tell her?”

“I suggested she might have been tricked. She understood how and it broke her”

“If you say so…” - Ratchet did not drill further remaining rather sceptical - “Anyway, this doesn’t really help our case” - he shook his head quite worried.

“Well, it could help understand, why the symbiont chose her… In case they both are into it”. 

Ratchet now looked interested. 

“If… let’s assume…” - Optimus continued - “Soundwave is hypothetically for some reason in big trouble, could he have sent Laserbeak here for her to protect the bird…? This would require however that he understood she could host his avian. How would he know that? Assuming that even herself she did not realize that...” - Optimus was thinking as he was talking, suspending his voice for short moments - “Symbionts… they do not feed by themselves, they need another mech or femme to provide for them. Technically they cannot survive independently of their carriers for a longer time.”

“How long would that be?”

“Well certainly not much longer than since…” - they looked at each other. 

“Since we brought Arcee back from her underground trip.”

Something more clicked in the picture, but they were not fully sure yet what exactly matched. Ratchet continued the reasoning.

“And, if we got it right, Soundwave was the one to send us her distress signal. He did not use his advantage of having her in stasis to kill her or take her hostage as his trophy to Megatron. Unless he used his advantage in another way...” - they silenced. 

“And then he sent Laserbeak over here?” 

“Do you recall who exactly Soundwave was before the war? What function did he have?”

“Wasn’t he some sort of a scientific advisor to the Council at some point? Like really a number of eons ago, before the madness broke out?”

“Advisor? Such a vocal personality?” - Ratchet was now sarcastic. - “If so, we must be able to find something more about him than the  _ slenderbot _ urban legend says”.

“You do not always need to be very vocal…” - Optimus considered with that type of emphatic logic which sometimes drove Ratchet mad but which he adored at the same time - “There are also other ways...”

They turned the medbay terminal on connecting directly to the mainframe. The search did not reveal anything though. The available databases were more less thoroughly empty on the topic of Soundwave.

“The slagger cleaned up well after himself”... - Ratchet commented - “He likes to stick to the shadows”.

They tried from a couple other angles, searching for anything on carriers, symbionts and whatever could be related to that. And finally there was something. Not much but very much at the same time. A very old symbiont Ratchet blurrily remembered from many vorns ago, from the beginning days of the war. A bad quality picture dug up without any associated metadata showing a closer undefined cat-like shape bladed all over its skin looking straight into the camera with bold burning red eyes. He had a carbon black wildcat-like face of not clearly defined structure, gleaming and shining sort of a weak purple-greenish light from underneath its surface. The picture did not allow for too much analysis, it wasn’t even 3D, but it was enough for Ratchet’s memory circuits to click together.

“WOW, it seems we nailed him…” - Ratchet raised his optics at Optimus who nodded sharing a similar bliss for association of facts - “This was Ravage. A very special symbiont. Cristalline… Very unusual built, with mineral crystallic memory units, forged only naturally. No way to construct one by hand. Currently reported as extinct. There were supposed to be a few carriers like that too. Super sensitive sigint sensors, super voluminous memory, super processing power, dealing with research and exploration...” - Ratchet bent forward towards the screen with satisfaction. - “If I am right, *this* is what Arcee saw” - he said firmly zooming in the already pixelated picture.

Optimus looked closer in thoughtfulness.

“The eyes” - Ratchet explained. “She must have seen this kind of eyes when he pulled the mask off. If he is what I am now guessing, it activated an involuntary infrasonic blast knocking her out of consciousness with no further signs of damage. Very elegant… but not as safe as it might seem, for neither side. Unstable. Went sideways too much and too often. So the implant was extremely rare and discontinued long, long before I even entered the medical academy. And see that color? He has got those so called bioglow lines. You do not see those often indeed. But if he is made of dark crystalline structures, then, well, then, it is not just armour jewellery… but an intrinsic part of his biology, *then* we have really got something here. He might contain more memory than all Iacon databases together”. - Ratchet sounded almost excited - “So, if I am right, this is more-less what our friend Soundwave would look like. Dark as night and unpredictable.” 

They looked at each other in silence. 

“Right...” - Optimus said thoughtfully thinking of Arcee lying curled up and powered down on her berth - “That might be all just guessing, but if you are right… do we have any idea what else is he capable of?”

“No idea what else, I actually really thought they were *all* extinct…”.

“Could he be one of * _those*_ unique cases who could… who are * _able to_ *... ?”

It sounded really cryptic, but Ratchet understood.

“Let’s better keep her home for the time being.”

“She will go crazy, but I guess we do not have much choice. Until we figure out some wiser solution.” - Optimus agreed.

And they both sighed deeply at the same time.


	7. Night Dive

Laserbeak settled in well. In the first days he would not leave her at all. He just docked for good and grounded Arcee in the base totally. She understood and did not protest severely feeling the symbiont bond and the need to think things over before she would do anything. It was also something very new for her and it made her tired. She recharged more and consumed more too, while her system almost automatically applied her own self repair on the starved symbiont.

Ratchet made a good try examining the duo to understand how the docking was at all possible. Laserbeak undocked reluctantly for that purpose but he did not cause any trouble. Arcee’s structure was not really so much changed. Some new connectivity was added though, as if it developed on its own, already a couple of weeks ago, and now it seemed pretty mature and provided satisfactory output rates. It did not cause her any pain and did not pose any too dramatic burden to her systems, however the symbiont took his resources for which she now had to cater. What was most fascinating though was how much she was at ease with her new “attachment”. The normally untouchable Arcee, had now a living creature coexist with her almost on parasitic conditions, and it did not seem to bother her.

Ratchet referred to old databases and literature he had hamstered from previous times on Cybertron to understand under what circumstances a bot can become a carrier without any clear signs of that capability before. He found, as he expected, that it could come with genetic heritage. To what he knew, unlike most Cybertronians she was a spark forged of a relationship, and obviously now it surfaced that one of the ancestors must have been a carrier just as Optimus indicated.

Moreover, Laserbeak did not show any attempts to communicate with the outside world either. He seemed to feel totally at home at the base. Further tests confirmed that the Decepticon energy signature of the bird was inactive, and his tracking system shut down likewise. That meant that even Soundwave could not find him just based on normal location services. The avian seemed to be hiding from something in the base and obviously did not want to be found. And he was smart enough to manage his own signalling. It made Ratchet wonder. He repeated the tests with some distance scanners when the subject was fully unaware and they turned out the same. Laserbeak was invisible from the outside, even if he flew away from the base which he did not try once, nobody would see him, unless with just his own optic eyes.

It was not the physical health of Arcee that worried Ratchet however, but it was her mental state. She was going around uneasily, anxious and couldn’t really find a good place for herself. She sat often and played with Laserbeak and that was one of the few things that seemed to bring her joy and smile. And she seemed to communicate with the avian somehow, and he followed her wishes and requests without further problems. It seemed the set-up worked. Miraculously.

In the end, after a number of hesitant deliberations and fiery discussions, mostly for her sake, they decided the state of affairs was acceptable enough to allow her out on patrol as long as Laserbeak was caged properly at the base whenever she was supposed to leave. Almost everyone understood that she couldn’t sit there grounded idle forever, busy only with the, way too static, opsroom monitoring job. She was active by nature and she went crazy when she was deprived of exercise, open spaces and mobility that were her real life.

After some days, a status quo developed in which she went out on patrol with others who did not ever let her go alone still worrying for her safety, both from external factors as well as her own crazy ideas. And they were right. In her head, since long, she was thinking, with truly cyberninja precision and in full secrecy, of a plan of an excursion that she hoped would serve her to find peace and at least some explanation to the way she was feeling recently. So she calmly accepted all the conditions and somehow managed to convince Laserbeak not to make fuss about a couple of hours in confinement when she was out.

In the meantime, she lured Smokescreen and Bumblebee into insane speeding races across empty highways during night patrols, as she tried to kill the impatience of her spark waiting for the proper occasion to sneak out and put the plan into action…

* * *

_  
How bad can waiting be? Once you figured out the most important part of your own truth, once you have done everything that could have been done, and all that's left is gliding through reality without any further idea but to wait. Waiting… long, cold, unsettling, putting hope into trial, challenging without a clear perspective, leaving you at the mercy of probability… waiting can be really impatient and senseless. It dumbs you with nervous anxiety, gives loneliness room to grow as wildflowers in an unattended garden where resentments are flourishing in the corners, coloured in green and yellow, the ground is soaking wet with doubt, and cold water is dripping between the fingers…_

_...Naive hope to hear footsteps in the corridor against all odds and all reason. The swelling risk to remain there a few clicks longer neglecting everything somewhere else where you are needed and expected to be. Risk of being disclosed..._

_Waiting works as long as hope persists._

* * *

  
An occasion presented itself a couple of weeks later. The base was deep in recharge and even Optimus gave up his nightly work. Bumblebee *accidentally* fell asleep on the night shift in the opsroom after some excessive, exhausting racing they did with Arcee during the day.

With crazy pulsing spark, energon humming insanely in her audials, filled with anxiety mixed with extreme excitement, Arcee programmed the groundbridge for an automatic return protocol, double checked everything, making sure that nobody sees the yellow-green light of the teleportation device placed in the darkness of the big hall, and she fired off.

The groundbridge closed behind her as she landed on the mountainside. The snow melted away, which made it a bit easier to walk. After half an hour looking and almost stepping in her own footprints she found an entrance in the ground and crawled in with some effort. She was not fully sure if this was the right one, but according to Laserbeak’s memory it must have been it. The opening was a little bigger inside changing to a reasonable passage that allowed her to move forward. So she sneaked along the wall trying to shield her signal the best she could, while she pursued the corridor deeper into the abandoned mine.

Helping herself with night vision she squeezed through passages where the corridor narrowed significantly. As she moved on she saw clearly the places where it collapsed as well as fairly fresh signs of manual excavation. She was guessing that it was where Soundwave dug his way through dragging her along out of the trap. Remains of dried energon were visible in a few places smeared on the wall or on the ground, where he must have squeezed himself through with the wing injury obviously open. So she did not do such a good welding job eventually…

Not long after she entered the corridor she realized she lost access to the comms and geolocation. A little sting of fear bit her, but this was something that she in fact expected to happen. The same power that did it the previous time was still in force, and she was now more ready for it, at least mentally. She recorded the way in and stored it safely to be able to go out easier in case anything happened. And this time she had Laserbeak with her, who was much smaller and potentially could escape easier in case of a collapse. At least it was what she was explaining herself.

She moved slowly step by step, listening carefully to the sounds of the mine, peering intensely through her night vision for any signs of anything that could clarify her, help her understand, what was dwelling inside there, what really happened. A silent sound of gravel crunching under her feet mixed with a more distant sound of dripping water reaching her from somewhere deeper inside the underground passage. It made a weird impression of an indistinct chatter on a busy street heard from behind prison bars… She shivered. When she focused she could hear actual words spoken by these voices. Indiscernible but they were words for sure… Following a deeper, primordial instinct she turned the night vision off for a moment and full, total darkness fell around her. She focused on her hearing and a cosmic feeling of primal fear of eternity and entrapment filled her for a second sharpening her senses to the verge of light pain. She locked out that fear and used the senses trying to focus on the objective and listen deeper and deeper to the voices of the mine. She felt the reassuring energon flow from Laserbeak who got suddenly somehow more awake and a clear aura of waiting started to surround him with increasing intensity.

She took a few more steps forward in the total darkness trying not to stumble. A little cavern opened in front of her. The complete darkness seemed to be less complete here, as if some sort of moonlight filled the room with intensity close to zero, but still allowing for shapes to emerge. Grain of red and blue sparks danced in front of her optics tempting to go on nightvision again. She listened carefully. There was a little pool of water in front of her, more energon stains on the ground, and a corridor leading further deep… She knelt down to touch the energon remains. And then she understood what else she was hearing. It sounded like a very quiet humming of someone’s ventilation systems. Not hers, not Laserbeak’s... The same moment Laserbeak detached and took off into the darkness. Before she turned night vision on again a distinctive click echoed in the darkness. She knew the sound already… docking slots. And the light… it was a very dimmed biolight. She froze in place raising her gaze towards the place from where she heard the click.

He was sitting in a little cavern on the side, leaning his back against the wall and looking at her. He was like a black shadow embroidered with very faint lines of biolight of his body which glittered slightly reflecting in the waterpool and surrounding wet rocks which made the picture seem unrealistic. Her optics fixed on him realizing his presence in slow motion. Still kneeling down over the energon stains on the ground she stopped in the middle of her movement fixing her eyes on him. He was hardly visible, just a silhouette by the wall, now with Laserbeak docked in with an overjoyed EM field welcoming his master.

Soundwave did not seem to spread any field. Or he kept it very close. She remembered that all the same from the previous time they met. No real EM field but something strange and intense though, that she could feel but not read. He was now stroking the head of Laserbeak with a claw tip. And he kept looking. At. *Her*.

Her spark ceased to pulse for a moment. It felt like a short-circuit, a momentary blackout in her nervous system. Then her senses defroze and went twice as sharp. Suddenly the distant water dripping somewhere in the old corridor did not seem like whispers anymore but became close to an echoed sound of a shouting crowd...

For a moment she thought he was a hallucination, one of her many dreams, but then he did something she never expected of him. He spoke.

_"Arcee"_

Silence fell again leaving a profound signature of his surprisingly flat, monotone voice hanging long in the air as the sound of her name diluted into the darkness. It was a strange and frightening voice, devoid of emotion, melody or any kind of humanity. It sounded so automated. Like another of his records. Maybe it was a record?

He got up on his feet, stretching his tall slim silhouette to the full height. Now it looked as if she was kneeling in front of him. It made her feel embarrassed for a moment, reproaching herself suddenly the whole plan to come here. What was she thinking with this idea to come back? She believed she would find some answers... But what really was she hoping to find… * _Him*_?

Familiar sensation of heat crossed her faceplates for a click. All of a sudden she remembered the scar on her lip and almost automatically raised her finger to touch it. Then she looked up again and realized that his very long wing was now stretched towards her with an open palm, in a gesture inviting to help her up.

~/I did not mean to scare you/~

Something remotely similar to a voice, different now, somehow immaterial, echoed through her head. Now she wasn’t sure if she heard it for real or was it just a trick with a commlink in her mind again. But the commlink was off, she reflected. What did she hear then?

“You speak...” she said. Her voice sounded real and echoed across the cave.

He nodded and stepped a little bit closer still reaching out his wing, a little lower, almost touching her arm. She looked up uncertain and slowly took his hand accepting the help that she did not really need. His grip was both gentle and strong. And it made her spark unfreeze and go back to life again.

~/I was... expecting you/~ he lied reluctant to admit it was just a blend of a modest wish, a childish hope, stubborn persistence and sheer luck rather than any reasonable plan. Well, it was some sort of a plan, and it was not the first time he was sitting inside the old mine alone trying to collect his thoughts, and hoping at the bottom of his spark, that Arcee maybe once has the same idea. Maybe at the same time as himself… maybe Laserbeak feels something through their symbiotic bond and maybe… just maybe… Save for the dripping water, the cave was filled with untouched silence.

She was speechless standing there in front of him and looking at him with wide open, now shining optics. Their light flashed blue in his black visor, and she could see her own facial expression reflecting in his mask. She saw her own big eyes open in awe, half open mouth and sweet heated faceplates… She closed her mouth quickly trying to control her face, while it echoed in her head in his strange way of communication:

~/I am *happy* to confirm you are well/~

He moved a little closer still glaring at her, tilting his head attentively like a curious wild animal. As if he was scanning her status. Then he did something unexpected. He raised his clawed wing and touched her chest gently in the place where Laserbeak was docking in the recent days. She stood like frozen, as he examined her armour plating bit by bit. He seemed to be understanding exactly what happened and where his familiar nestled into his new home. She thought he must have seen the bird taking off her to greet him... He shook his head a bit as if in disbelief.

~/Amazing/~ she heard in her head again ~/You *can* carry Laserbeak. And you are able to hear me, too/~.

It was just a statement, but she nodded slowly. He did not stop the curious, delicate examination of the docking slots, making her freeze in place at the feeling of the touch, that spread an uncontrollable wave of warmth and dizziness all across her body. Tense, undecided and dazzled she registered a storm that ran through her head in the same nanoclick telling her that she should protest, push him away, how dare he do something like this, so bluntly and impertinently, as if she were some sort of… a test object… infringing her own personal space and… And she stood there motionless, rooted to the ground, feeling deeper and deeper into it. Every bit of it. Despite any signals brought by reason, a thrill of excitement ran along her backstrut cabling.

She kept looking at him, or at her own reflection in his visor, and a flashback of the infamous kiss replayed in her memory. She closed her optics not to look at her mirror image anymore and uttered a reply in a subdued, rusty voice:

“Laserbeak. He came to stay with me. I do not know how....”

Soundwave only nodded as she silenced not finishing her sentence. Then she realized that she still held his hand after he helped her up. Suddenly she understood how much more than she could have ever intended her gesture was revealing. She was about to lose the grip when one of his tentacles sneaked out and wrapped around her waist delicately dragging her to him and tying them both together.

Laserbeak, as if understanding exactly what was going on, detached nimbly from between them and took to the air, settling himself on some rocky perch under the ceiling, peering at them curiously from a distance.

Her spark was racing and he certainly must have sensed it. She felt his datacable around her, pulsing, catching her spark rhythm and making her much too soft inside.

~/Soundwave/~ she thought that she whispered it but she realised that the sound of his name did not leave a trace in the cave’s silence. She did not say it. She not comm him either… She...

In reply Soundwave’s wing embraced her while his a bit uncertain tentacle grip now fastened stronger pulling her even closer. He hugged her head to his chest stroking her helm delicately with his fingers.

She had no room in herself to think anymore.

Everything that she was missing since the first cave encounter stood now in front of her. Throwing away any thoughts of protest, she gave in to his embrace pressing herself in the cradle of his arms and wrapping her own around him cautiously, like a child.

~/I am also happy you made it safe too/~ it flowed outside of her. It sounded a bit stupid and was a “whatever” thing to say, like all other “appropriate” things she could make up. She felt how the plating of her armour itched to dismantle to dozens little bits. The feeling went down almost to the spark chamber itself thrilling her spark and speeding the energon flow. She remembered the same captivating thrill from the cave trap. Now it was happening again, but not by the virtue of curiosity but by one of the longing that she experienced throughout the last weeks. His spark was *back* next to hers and she felt enormous energy growing in them both wanting to be released...

He felt her cheek on his shoulder and how her hands now gripped around his back plating, and how their surfaces started adhering with tiny nano-reactions. So eventually his instincts were not wrong. Relieved and almost drunk on his own tense chemistry, he felt it and he knew it, deep inside they were both ready for something that should not happen, their technobiology seemed to be deciding for them, dragging them to a danger zone… again. On a spur of the moment he imagined it totally perfectly possible to elope, stealing her from the Autobot base, getting away from Nemesis, away from this Earth to some distant galaxy where nobody would find them. The data cables itched him to click in with a connection and she was there so close, so warm, so trusting… Did anyone ever, save for his animalistic symbionts, trust him this way for no apparent reason?

Then suddenly embarrassed and frightened by his own daring reactions, he forced himself, against all his desire, to loosen the grip and withdraw the tentacle back to its casing, trying uselessly to make it seem an old-friends greeting hug. Cautiously he stepped a little backwards and trying to balance that out in the least ridiculous way, he said:

~/I am sorry for the blast that took you down last time. I did not want to hurt you. It was the first time since long that I took the mask off and I was not cautious enough to... /~

She did not let him finish as she shook her head.

~/I am fine… I was just…/~ _::missing you so much:: -_ she felt like saying, but instead she asked ~/Why did you send Laserbeak over to me?/~

~/I did not. He left to find you on his own… I was looking for him but it took me some time to figure out where he found his way/~ Soundwave became suddenly uncertain. He grew wise enough to know that emotion was speaking through him, and he could later regret it, but he continued the broken thought ~/Can you keep him for me? Strange things are... /~ _::happening with me:: -_ he thought ~/happening on Nemesis/~ he said instead ~/If you can do it for him… I… believe it is safer this way, they think he perished long ago. If they now get their hands on him, they might find out…/~ he left the sentence unfinished.

Actually he had serious doubts if a reverse situation where Laserbeak would be an Autobot symbiont seeking refuge on Nemesis, could ever be accepted by the Cons, but it seemed that the Autobots had their own logic that allowed Laserbeak to be roaming around almost freely with his new inexperienced guardian who honestly speaking had little control over the bird. Something like this was totally unimaginable for him until very recently. Why did he now make this assumption of rightfulness of the reality beyond his comprehension? A shiver ran along his cabling, as something yet more ungraspable added to the equations governing his processor. It was a scary but exciting feeling of infinity of options. Life seemed to be larger than life....

She nodded slowly to his reasoning. She understood what he meant.

~/And you? How are you?/~ she asked.

Silence fell between them for a longer moment, together with a slight change of field sneaking in with this innocent question.

~/Myself, I deal with the... things/~ he explained vaguely drowning his gaze into the ground.

Ideas like “Decepticon”, “Autobot”, “war”, “enemy” found their mysterious way into the silence bringing the bitter ingredients of anxiety and awkwardness to the shamelessly sweet picture of the previous moment. The initial enchantment was infringed now with a freezing streak of doubt. Suddenly they did not know what to do, what to say, how to bridge the gap that broke open. They were like teenagers from opposite gangs caught up by unwanted reality, who did not really want to accept it.

As they stood digesting the unexpressed meanings, Laserbeak, somewhat uneasy, glided down silently and sat on Soundwave’s shoulder rubbing his little head against his helm with animal tenderness of a cat, and then he took off again directing himself towards the way out, trying to clearly show what seemed not to come across with any other means he had at his disposal. It was time to get out of here.

They were so focused on each other that they did not spot anything unusual, but Laserbeak remained sober and something did not play well to him in the overall atmosphere of the place. This something was not their mixed up and confused fields, but something third, a foreign smell, a smell that should not be there. Laserbeak knew about smells already learning the skill of an earthly creature, helpful in his new environment outside of Nemesis.

He cawed really quietly to grasp their attention, and urged them through his field to follow. As much as he did not want to interfere their strange mating dance which glittered colourfully in his EM vision, he got upset about their blindness to the reality that this state caused. Both of them, normally vigilant and watchful creatures, quick and effective in many battlefields, now failed completely to see any potentialities of danger. Where did their senses go? Would they just stand there like frozen and stare at each other? Oblivious, detached… not existing for anything but themselves.

And what was even *more* absurd for the bird mind like Laserbeak’s, they were obviously trying to go in denial, pretend facts did not matter, radiating with effort trying to override the obvious natural directives that ran between them in such a harmonized way... They behaved like bloody humans, slag it. Complicated. No, Laserbeak couldn’t comprehend, why on Cybertron were they behaving this way. If they were so deep into each other, as he clearly saw with his own sensors, why wouldn’t they just put it to use in the first place, join up and figure something out together? This meeting now was what Laserbeak struggled to make happen, believing that it was what Soundwave wanted, what the two of them wanted, convinced that it would straighten everything up, open the future paths... It should have been easy, shouldn't it, he knew precisely what they should do… if not for the fact that *now* they should better leave the cave and keep the mating, bonding and cuddles for a little later. No time for standing frozen, no time for sentiments either, when the ground is not sure. Next to the smell something else caught his attention. He heard something… passing across the dripping water, breaking its rhythm, changing the irregularity of the whispers...

Laserbeak made a circle in the cave and landed speedily on Soundwave’s arm again goading strongly at his helm. This woke Soundwave up from the trance, who momentarily unfroze and understood the nervous communication from Laserbeak. Sharpening all senses he became a surveillance machine again. He densified his attention scanning for the disharmony of the surrounding signalled by Laserbeak. But the signals were confusing. Something indeed did not feel right. There was something about the sounds, something about the change in the chemistry of the air, maybe something yet else... *Something* seemed to be digging itself through the depth of the mine, from the direction of the inner corridor. Something big and slow and very silent. Electric. A machine of sorts… Without EM field. Too well shielded to be a human one though. Almost invisible. _::Shockwave?::_ It crossed his mind as a possibility… If so, he was then visiting Megatron already and maybe pacing down his tracks… Whoever was able to find where Soundwave found refuge for the infamous missing week, it could only be Shockwave. Whatever there was after him, the need to disappear from here right now was paramount.

He looked at Arcee with a totally different look, pragmatic and logical now. He signalled a gesture of silence and without worrying for wording too much he relayed her warnings of danger, need for stealth mode and instant getting out.

~/Follow me/~ she more felt it than heard it.

She glanced at Laserbeak with the corner of her eye, and back at Soundwave who moved like a cat already inside the corridor through which she got in. She followed. They moved silently, with all lights off, whatever frequency, keeping their fields tight. She wasn’t sure what the danger was but she followed out in the quiet - lithe and stealthy, putting her feet softly, keeping close just behind him. He changed the route a couple of times finding their way through some side corridors leading up and finally out. They stopped from time to time to listen to the slightly tense air. If someone was to find something this might be their footprints at the last muddy bit of the corridor. But the strange thing seemed to remain inside in some distance. Maybe they were lucky this time but the place was burned.

Outside there was night and the sky was shining with stars up above between the trees on the slope. They stood now both, dirty in mud, ventilating the moist cold midnight air of the Earth atmosphere.

He looked at her quickly.

~/There was something… or someone inside.../~

~/...who should not see us together?/~ she finished for him.

He nodded reluctantly.

~/Is it the *things* you are dealing with now back at Nemesis?/~ she asked scoring bull’s eye with a tremendous precision.

~/We should disappear now. Can you groundbridge?/~ he answered quickly offtopic.

~/I can. I will manage.../~ she half-lied. Well, she couldn’t really groundbridge that easily as he could without remotely triggering the protocol in the base set preventively for her previous coordinates. Without alerting anyone, that is. So there was namely only one place she could groundbridge from on her own.

Or alternatively she could drive… 4 hours home. Not perfect under the circumstances.

She felt his urgency and some hasty communication with Laserbeak in a totally animalistic way without any language whatsoever, but despite this he still stood next to her hesitantly.

~/Take care of yourself.../~ he said after a moment of uneasy silence, releasing a little bit of his EM field that was now a totally cosmic blend of any signals she could imagine. ~/I have to go now, but I can… see you again… if you want me to/~ it streamed right down to her processor with a soft nervous flow and she was not sure anymore if these were her own thoughts or him speaking to her.

Slowly, she nodded her head in reply.

Then in a span of a nano-second, before she realized, she was grasped in a strong squeezing hungry hug of entangled tentacles and wings, almost pressing any air out of her ventilation systems. She felt as a datacable climbed up her waist and back, along the spine, behind her neck, and up to her face, placing the strangest, slightly burning kiss of the end-tip’s tendrils on her scarred lips. Then everything disappeared back where it came from.

She felt dizzy and the trees around went round as she heard him again.

~/I promise. Now you have to roll./~ he almost smiled with his totally motionless visor as he stroke her heated cheek plate and nodded to her again. ~/Be safe/~ Then he ran a few steps out to an open clearing on the slope and took off to the air.

She stood watching him in awe, almost breathless, looking at his lithe silhouette transforming into flight mode and taking off across the trees and up to the sky.

“I want you” - she whispered and immediately she covered her mouth with her hand frightened of the blunt declaration. She did not know if he heard it but he seemed gone within a blink of an eye, right into the dark of the night.

She stood like that for a click observing the dark star-prickled sky where he disappeared. She saw clearly the Milky Way above, pierced by the tree tops, and she felt it was so beautiful, and the air around her smelled so wet and fresh. Drowned in the black of the night with silvery moonlight the landscape contrasts had colours so strong and so distinctive in her eyes. The heathers were violet, and the pine needles were black-green, and the tree trunks were silvery gold… And she shone with some inner light that wouldn’t cease to glow. For a moment she felt really beautiful.

Laserbeak was the one to remind her of reality again. He docked without asking permission and almost instructed the runaway in a form of an instinctive impulse of a nightly creature living in the shadows for whom survival is paramount. He led her through a dark path back to the groundbridge location, where she executed the command almost automatically on his prompt.

* * *

  
She did not see that, but Soundwave made a big circle up in the sky to make sure she disappeared safely in the groundbridge and only then he took completely off the crime scene. And of course he had heard her. He also saw from the distance how she stood there enchanted for a moment of complete beauty. After all he *was* a surveillance machine even if he failed in this function recently more than ever before. He still heard things even if said really silent. And he also saw and understood things… If the uncertain situation didn't force them both to disappear from the site as soon as possible, he would turn back the very moment he heard her. No, he wouldn’t fly away anywhere at all in the first place. But reason urged him to be cautious now. Hasty actions could bring unforeseeable consequences, and he was risking enough already constantly disappearing from Nemesis when he could.

His sensors and all circuits were running at high, still digesting the sensations from the encounter. The bliss he experienced gave him a drive. The impetus to do something about it, to work it out somehow. The energon within him was circulating fast and his spark was racing in hope that not all in his life was lost to the routine of the, suddenly boring, offputting, grey, disillusioned everydayness.

Unexpectedly his destiny had more than one path to follow. Parallel realities opened up in the probability calculus, creating a muddle of threads entwining restlessly as in a complex reading of a malfunctioning self-subsistence apparatus. The simple priorities in his head twisted and changed into a ravel of choices. Choices that were not solely mathematical equations but which had taste, smell and colour assigned. Her last words circled in his mind insanely, and they filled him with anxious and fearful excitement. The spark started speaking with its own voice after all the time of cold freeze, now out of control, blurring the so far clear future completely.

The wind was cold and the sky above was clear. The stars were shining almost tangibly on his sleek airborne body, wind cooling the heated livingmetal down and whirling around the wings.

The fact that someone, probably his own comrades, might be suspecting something, or even spying on him didn't make it any easier, but it was amazing how much he marginalized that assumption for quite a long moment. But in fact this was the first thing he needed to find out before any other steps are taken. And to make sure that they would not take too much interest in Arcee… That was the worst case scenario that he needed to prevent at all cost.

The potential consequences now gaped at him from every direction and again he was wondering what should be the next step.

And he fiercely hated Megatron for a little click too long after suddenly a thought hit him on what could happen if the warlord found out...

* * *

  
That thought was more than justified. It only summarized the magnitude in which Soundwave got occupied and blinded by his new situation and how much his senses and overall logic got distracted in recent times. Yes, he did fail in his core functions before he noticed and his internal life consumed the unaccustomed mind, torn between conflicting, resource consuming processes. Everything he had previously envisaged as reasons for erasing the newly born emotions after the cave encounter was now materializing.

It was grim on Nemesis as the big boss seemed generally quite irritated and it was risky to cross his paths.

This day it was particularly grim, when their new guest Shockwave returned from last night’s scouting mission requested by the warlord in great confidence. There were just the two of them in the room and Megatron did not try to hide too deep how much upset he was when he saw a short surveillance video presented by the scientist.

The film wasn’t very long, but it showed enough. It showed first a few minutes of night vision footage of a very dark cave or mine corridor maze with some energon stains on the walls and on the floor, then the little surveillance drone flew outside through a very small opening up in the ceiling and filmed through the bushes zooming down from a much higher location showing two silhouettes holding tightly together for a brief second, then one taking off to the sky while the other was joined by a smaller shadow walking away to a ground bridge that opened a few moments of walk away.

After Shockwave left the room, Megatron watched the video more than twenty times in a row, again and again.

There was no way to confuse who the silhouettes were, although the big grey mech had it still hard to believe. He zoomed in again and again and he saw the same thing. He wished he saw Starscream. This would be still digestible and not so dangerous, but the unique body build of the flying frame left no room for doubt. And the little shadow was not only alive and kicking but docking onto the *wrong* bot.

Megatron zoomed the pixelated picture closer, frame by frame, to watch the well known datacable shapes go around the slim body of the other bot in what was clearly a *tender* grip. They ran up her backstrut, half open with what looked like tendrils released climbing up along the seams of her armour and then disappearing on the other side, which he could not see from this perspective. It lasted a short moment but rewinded a million times in slow motion it grew to a monstrous size. Then he watched her, turning around to see him fly away. There was no audio but her face expression and the light she shone was more than telling. Her lips moved in a sentence, and Shockwave shared an idea of what she might be saying. Megatron more than disliked this particular idea. He scrolled across that part a few times more looking closely at the body language of the two, delightfully meaningful and evocative. Like one only lovers saying goodbye after a secret tryst could share.

While Shockwave saw it as an excellent opportunity for using the situation to their advantage, Megatron became a stormy cloud and his logical circuits seemed to have suddenly fried.

Everything that he observed along the last few weeks fell into place. His fist tightened angrily as he felt a cold biting needle prick across his chest. Opportunity or not, no way this was going to happen. EVER AGAIN.


	8. Disfigured

Red gloomy light filled his quarters as Soundwave stared numbly at his reflection in a piece of silvered glass which he had fetched from some dusty corner of the Nemesis storage deck. In the darkness of his room, without any artificial light on, he analysed the details of his face reflected in the makeshift mirror. He did not remember when he did something like this last time. Maybe a very long time ago. Back on Cybertron. Before the war. When he was still… someone else? 

Unmasked, hidden in his chambers he touched his own face methodically place by place with the feather-thin fingers of his wings. As the fingertips moved from point to point, his skin reacted with a moment of gleaming purplish-green light everywhere they left a print. The colour was similar to the one that his body emitted along the seams between the parts of his armour plating, but much much deeper in shade. He followed the move of his hand with his red shiny eyes observing the flickering game of lights. The textures of his skin were forming delicate changing patterns that danced around the fingers and made him a little dizzy just from looking. 

He felt some very low voltage biting through the skin insulation wherever his fingers touched. It was pleasant. Not even a bit as pleasant as when he was down in the mine with Arcee, but it was like a memory of that feeling. And he liked it. In the past he would think it was an illogical thing to do, to replay and recall someone else's touch with his own fingers... But now he did not care anymore for logic.

Instead he tried to smile. The face in the mirror returned the expression and suddenly his EM field warmed to incorporate that smile. He felt his own presence as someone else’s for a moment. He overlaid the picture his own fingers with a memory of her hand and even the feeling of the touch changed. It was more… forgiving. The glow from his eyes took a smoother shade.

He vented deeply. These were just illusions. He leaned down a little lower over the glass with a sigh that he registered only after it escaped his voice box. 

All along the years he lagged with proper maintenance of what he had hidden behind the mask and he almost forgot it. What was the use if nobody saw it anyway. This way the strange alien thing that was his face had time and freedom to develop its own way, in line with his new functions and new role he had in life, while he did not show too much interest, leaving things to themselves.

At the same time he did not let anyone attend to his vulnerable structures being aware that the rareness of his construction and the initial purpose for which those of his kind were created, were not in demand nowadays. Sentient researchers, curious explorers and memory keeping historians were part of the past, obsolete, in opposition to warriors, spies and logisticians. So there was no need to remind anyone who he had been before. He preferred others to see him as a communications machine and not to advertise his real potential, and at the same time, weakness, that he housed under the mask. The times, when he was one of the few of his kind passed long ago and since then he had lifetime to become maybe the only survivor and the anomaly that he now was. 

Anyway he was considered a freak already. For the mask obviously, for his total silence, for his effectiveness and speed that raised jealousy. For the strange built of his body and ability to hack data from everything that had a memory bank or to generate ground bridges with his bare hands. For his sensory capabilities that made him know and hear things in a way others did not fully comprehend. And for his vast memory that seemed to keep and process everything acquired. And yes, to triple the effect, he also had an accomplice, Laserbeak… a faithful symbiont feeding on him and being a free set of ears and eyes… until recently at least. As much different he was to the others he could not let anybody, at any cost, lay their hands on him to see what really made that difference.

After cutting short the illogical part of emotions and empathy long ago he gained room in himself not to bother with things. It used to be a bliss. But it seemed not to work anymore. And now he did not really want that bliss either.  _ He had changed _ … He looked at himself in the silvery glass. His face flickered slightly and painted the darkness in changing colours. He knew some elements of it glitched now. The primitive ancient infrasonic system he had for the defense of his precious uniqueness had grown sideways beyond any conscious expectations and his own biology defended itself out of control. It could knock out everyone who dared to look in his eyes. Sort of.

So far it was not a problem, as it served its purpose right. But *now* he wanted *someone* to look in his eyes. Look deeply, thoroughly, overwhelmingly. Long and slowly. He wanted to open them, without anything shielding him in-between. To show himself real and naked, just as he was. Whatever comes next...

He transformed a tentacle tip into a complex multitool and unscrewed a side panel of his helm. He temporarily disabled the surface sensory network to feel less pain and ensure stable precision of his movements. Then he drilled in. It hurt anyway. It hurt as hell, because the thing he needed to get to was sitting deep inside his head, hidden in his softest tissues, wrapped in sensory networks. He knew his biology well enough to bite his lips, bear the pain and go ahead. It was impossible to cut the senses off from the protoflesh with its distributed memory and processing structures. It would pass him out instantly, kill his vital processes and then kill him. He couldn’t rely on anyone to help him either. So he had to feel the pain. He went ahead alone. 

Blue drops of energon started dropping from the cut he made by opening his inner structures, forming a little bloody stream staining his cheek and shoulder, and then dripping to the desk and the floor. Methodically and precisely, he cut his way through to the location of the infrasonic generator and started disconnecting it manually from his sensory network, disabling the obsolete autolaunch fuses, resetting jumpers to noll, and tweaking micro-circuits into a safe mode. Reprogramming of the whole thing to a controllable state would take much too long for his baring and, hardware-based, it needed somebody’s help to be properly fixed. Right now it would be a success to just disable the whole thing for the time being.

His wings’ fingers clutched into the flat surface of the desk and the claws engraved into its surface to contain the pain which radiated everywhere where the infringed sensory network led from the place of this surgery. But the tentacle worked its way through everything that needed to be done, caring not to override the consciousness, which twitched a little trying to escape the hurtful operation. 

Step by step he removed the most archaic and embedded defense of his precious memory banks. Both scared and strangely relieved, he kept working with calm determination. It was an expression of will, a choice of one of the many paths, his decision and his risk. This was improbability becoming the truth… 

It took long precise work until he finished and withdrew the thin ending of the multitool blotted with energon. Then he allowed himself to falter a little for a click. His vision blurred and everything hurt. Still he forced himself to weld the energon leaks, stitch the open wound with nano-stapling to support the self repair processes in their work, then he put the helm bit back on, covering everything. He wiped out the energon stains from his armour, the table and the floor, disposed the dirty cleaning wipes to the utiliser, clicked the mask back on and fell numb on his berth finally passing out into the black nothingness of a total powerdown letting the healing processes run undisturbed. 

* * *

  
It was not clear how much time had passed since he went offline. He did not hear or feel anything as if he almost did not exist.

He onlined very slowly just to feel how uncomfortable he was. He almost did not feel his wings and legs and something was blocking his movements. The arms seemed to be reaching up over his head and were unnaturally bent downwards, bound to something below, legs somewhat stretched apart, tied at the ankles with something that felt like stasis cuffs. He heard voices coming through a sonic mist of static from not far away.

“That would be it for now Shockwave, he will be all yours in a bit, but I still need to have a private chat with our communications officer after he wakes up. Good work removing the groundbridge KnockOut. I will call you when I am finished. Now you are both dismissed.” - Megatron’s voice sounded harsh but at the same time almost pleased.

“Yes my Lord” - that was Shockwave. KnockOut could not be heard, but Soundwave understood that the door closed behind them as they both left.

He was left alone together with Megatron. 

He onlined his optics under the mask and he saw the ceiling and some laboratory lamps above him. Something was really wrong with him and he did not like the position he was lying in. A streak of fear pierced his spark. He tried discretely to extend one tentacle but it did not work. They were already stretched out, he realised… and tied down to something. His senses were turning on one by one with some delay, as a dim barrier of some sedatives slowly ceased to work. Along with it, a feeling of pain reached his sensory nodes. 

“Well well, we are waking up.” 

He heard Megatron’s heavy steps approaching and in a moment the warlord’s face was visible within his optics reach. He blinked. His vision was framed in red and warning signals of injury, and he still couldn’t see very clearly. Someone had been tampering with his body. A quick scan revealed chassis violations, some missing functional components and local data losses due to stasis numbness in the spots where the ties were located. He recognized that his embedded groundbridge launcher was gone, the wound in the chest still open and bleeding slightly. Tentacles’ locomotor system was disabled. 

Frag. Not good. 

Through the blurry mist of his condition, he remembered quickly how he deactivated the infrasonic blast before falling to power down, and he reflected what a stupid move that had been under the current circumstances. He was not sure if they realized that, rather not, as he understood that also his mask was force-locked in place with some external restraints. Likely, they were afraid that he could use it… Of course, Shockwave knew something about it and it must have been his idea. That meant that he did not realise the intervention Soundwave inflicted upon himself. Thanks Primus he cleaned up all the energon after the surgery. A slight feeling of relief flickered for half a click, but soon enough it disappeared giving place to the wary tension again. 

So there was really someone in the abandoned mine yesterday spying on them? For how long? When did they realize what was going on? Of course Soundwave could have guessed the probability of getting caught was high, but he did not believe it so deeply… until now. Thanks Primus, he made sure Arcee disappeared into that groundbridge before he flew off. At least he did not need to worry about that. Hopefully...

Before he managed to fully analyse his situation, Megatron leaned above him seeing the slight shudder of his limbs activating but unable to free themselves from the stasis ties.

“You do not need to get tired unnecessarily. Our friend Shockwave did a good job pinning you to the table. And as he evidently knows you better than I do, I allowed him to do the honours of the house...”

Megatron grinned. Soundwave followed his face with just his optics without moving his head. The expression of the boss was grim and scary. Soundwave tried to focus his optics to see more clearly but the light blinded him. Slag it. He tried to relax his mechanics and lock the EM field pretending his usual cold image. He did not move and waited for the warlord’s next step.

“Has anyone ever told you, Soundwave, how *lovely* you are?” - Megatron spoke after a longer click of looking at him attentively. He was smiling viciously as he leaned closer, face to face with Soundwave’s visor. The warlord’s EM field was now floating freely and self-confidently filled with things Soundwave did not really like to acknowledge. 

“It is such a pity this *loveliness* goes around wasted… It makes me wonder why I have never taken advantage of it throughout the years of your loyal service.” - the itch from the field started to leak into his voice. Soundwave closed his optics again and jolted in one fast powerful movement trying to release himself from the captivity. Ineffectively. Instead something pulled his wings back violently almost ripping them out from the hinges.

“Easy, easy” - the warlord put a hand on his chest pressing him down way too strongly, inflicting pain on the open wiring of the wound left after groundbridge launcher removal. His voice pretended softness, but his whole field and body language were speaking against it. - “You don’t want to hurt yourself… Shockwave did a good job, I told you, don’t you trust my judgement? Maybe...” - he continued the previous thread - “maybe I chose not to touch you because of your endless loyalty and efficiency so far. But now I have reasons to doubt these two qualities persist in a good shape anymore...” - he suspended his voice for a moment - “but I have to admit that nevertheless you seem to be flourishing in a … different way. You have grown so *sensual* lately, huh?” - Soundwave felt Megatron’s other hand on the inner side of his leg stroking it softly along the thigh, moving slowly upwards and seeking into the sensitive wiring hidden behind the joints and seams of his armour plating. Almost out of control his inside tissues stiffened in defense.

“My Soundwave, so sensual…” - Megatron tasted both the words and his prisoner’s reaction, while continuing the upward movement of his clawed fingers. - “Who would have thought. The coldest one among us, what a dramatic change... Mhm…” -  Megatron’s face looked even more obscene than before as he smiled wider with slightly open mouth. He stroked Soundwave’s thigh again feeling into the tension inside. - “And your persistent silence just adds to your loveliness. My sweet mute servant monster on a leash… this is what you are Soundwave… You clench your flesh so delightfully down there. Could you do it again for me?” - he tightened the grip burying the claws painfully into the soft tissue between the armour seams. Soundwave put all his effort to stop the instinctive movement of his hydraulics, but succeeded only partially.

“Oh yes... That's right” - Megatron’s voice sounded somewhat rustier and the field emitted triumphant lusty satisfaction. Energon from the torn punctures leaked down his claws. He raised his hand and tasted the fluid looking straight at Soundwave’s face. 

Soundwave felt how all his circuits heated up in powerless fury, resentment and disgust, while the touched places felt contaminated. His EM field pulsed frantically, however close he dragged it to himself, it must have been possible to sense standing so close as Megatron did. If he could get up and fight, Megatron would have ended flat at the wall on the other side of the lab. But in this unequal setting Soundwave could do nothing but pretend it did not concern him. At least the hand was now off his thigh.

“And maybe you can say something for me?” - Megatron asked amiably - “After all I know you have a functional voice box…” - he stroke his captive across the throat pressing a little too strong on the energon veins inside. - “And you must have learnt some sweet words from your sweet little lady…” - Soundwave remained motionless, but everything froze inside him as the words flew through the air - “Or you can tell me how it feels when you frag your Autobot mistress with your snaky feelers or whatever else you have down there hidden in this freakish body of yours.” Megatron hissed hatefully dropping all the pretended sweetness into a clear steel-like voice. - “If you don’t tell me yourself, Shockwave will take care of extracting it directly from your head with all the other data after I’m done. And we did not forget about your face, don’t even try to be smart, we know about your infrasound tricks, so we’ll deal with it… later. I am quite curious though what’s hidden there under… if you’re as adorable as everywhere else.” - he put his hand flat on the mask staining it with Soundwave’s own internal fluids from the wound on the thigh. - “You can get ready for that part and if you play nice now, maybe I’ll be gentle...” - Megatron’s field was leaking with threat and sadistic arousal. It must have gotten him high just to speak about it. 

Some part of Soundwave couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The big boss was never precisely a gentleman but he seemed reasonable and never let himself to go so low… or didn’t he really? Soundwave’s vast memory recalled some deep hidden surveillance files from the Vehicons’ quarters. Well shielded, not really clear but implying various options of… abuse. Well nobody really treated Vehicons’ too gently, they were mass-sparked, cold-constructed, almost identical soldiers with unrecognisable names, loyal servants of his majesty without distinguishable faces or opinions expressed aloud... Cannon fodder. They never bothered Soundwave otherwise than just as available resources and energy consumers. Even Autobots did not have an issue to shoot at them with too much remorse. But what did anyone know about them? Nobody ever asked. They were just told to shut up and obey… and often die like dogs. A strong weird, inward feeling of disillusionment and displeasure hit him for a moment, like many times recently. He looked at Megatron with silent disgust. For a click he was tempted to maliciously display one or two records he had in store, but he dismissed this possibility as unreasonable and easily possible to be misunderstood under the circumstances.

The warlord’s hand now travelled across the prisoner’s hips and waist meandering around his midsection in a slow movement tracing upwards and downwards along the pattern of the bioglow lines that shone a strange dimmed light, different now from that ever seen by Megatron on Soundwave before. Not like the one in a battle, not in a confrontation, not during any focused work. And he had to admit, he looked at these lines more than many times recently, daydreaming of making that light shine much stronger than he had ever seen before. Under. His. Touch. 

Now there was something disturbing about the almost invisible glow, there was something wrong with it. But it was still exciting too. Almost nobody else had something like this and this rarity only added to the odd beauty of the prisoner. All his shape and posture were just too appealing, intriguing and delightful. The lightly armoured, lithe structure gave him swiftness and agility that heavier war machines could not ever afford. His slightly aberrant, slender bodily proportions made an impression of efficiency without useless ornamentation. And the wings… Megatron looked up the table towards Soundwave's arms twisted backwards and tied to the ground below. Much too long, due to serving the dual function of wings and arms at the same time, freakishly thin and incomprehensibly sturdy were giving him a look of a wild creature. It was almost as if Soundwave was not really a normal mech but some sort of a beast. A lovely, tamed beast… Now lying in his, Megatron’s, hands, to do whatever he liked with. So much more attractive now when he turned out sentient and disobedient.

Soundwave lay like frozen attempting to erase the feeling of unwanted touch that reached where it definitely shouldn’t and tried to focus on not reacting by any means to whatever happens next.

“So, what were you telling her?” - Megatron asked glaring at him in strange contemplation - “Were you whispering her words of desire and affection or were you selling her the contents of our databases?”

Soundwave kept lying still and silent, with carbon black mask displaying nothing. It irritated Megatron somewhat as a clear sign of resistance even at such a plain provocation, but it was also part of the teasing game for him, in which there could be just one winner anyway. The one in command... His other hand moved towards the tentacles. He grasped one of the limbs and squeezed strongly bruising and bending a few segments tight in his grip. Soundwave stiffened in tension as sharp pain almost curled him up. 

“I really wonder what it is like to be entwined in the passionate hug of these feelers of yours… how does it feel to entangle your little mistress again and again in an embrace that she cannot escape, just to find her interfacing ports and force in while she cannot defend herself, huh, what was it like, my silent Soundwave? Did she moan and squeal in pleasure or in pain as you did it?” - Megatron's face now was just millimeters from Soundwave’s mask. He clearly felt the big mech’s oily smell and hot chassis ventilation blowing on his chest.

“You think I am so stupid Soundwave. How do you think I could not have seen what was happening with you. You went completely nuts since your excavation trip last month”. - That was largely an overstatement, but it annoyed and irritated all the same. - “You are losing it Soundwave, I was there at your door at night when you boiled yourself so hot with your dreams that half of Nemesis could feel your field frying. Not just once or twice. But you know, it was so *lovely* to stand there and listen to you moaning so adorably and sweet. And you do have such a cute voice when you do that. I wish I walked in to see what you looked like arching up in desire to your ghosts and transforming ready to mate with them in your sleep… It was kind of hard not to think of it looking at you later during the day.” 

Soundwave remembered the strange look of Megatron’s eyes chasing him at the Nemesis bridge on a number of occasions in the recent times. What he attributed to different other factors now became clearer and brought a feeling of embarrassment and repulsion. He wished he had the groundbridge to teleport himself away, instead he felt his master’s possessive touch where he least wanted it.

“Oh yes, you have changed. Beautiful but distracted, prone to errors, many foolish mistakes, not in calculations but in your decisions. Because you’ve forgotten one simple thing, my sweet sensual beast…” - Megatron’s hands were now squashing consecutive parts of the tentacle remorselessly. His eyes sought attentively for any more signs of pain in the slender body, who put his best effort to conceal it. - “You belong to *ME*.”

Soundwave kept his optics closed as the waves of pain radiated from the hurt mechanics. Deep inside he was compiling firewalls in the speed of light, expecting the worst which did not yet begin. He focused on encrypting every bit of data he had inside, and was speedily relocating information between the memory banks to the most unexpected locations of his body. He understood now that he was disclosed, and that Shockwave was on his way to hack in next with the cortical psychic patch and download everything possible to find in Soundwave’s memory after this courting interlude from Megatron is finished. He had time only as long as the big mech found pleasure in his harassment but the biggest threat was in the cool and calculated Shockwave who knew many of his secrets… And who would not resort to mistreatment or threats but who would coldly and efficiently smash his deepest integrity and download, modify or delete what he liked out of what he found through that dreaded protocol. He sorted his data to what could be revealed and what needed to be concealed at all cost and he prayed to Primus he would make it in time and that his plan would outsmart his mad-scientist brother in arms… 

“*I* will choose who you can meet and mate with” - Megatron continued - “And it is *MY* decision to whom your spark shall belong. Do you *understand* that?” - he bent down again towards Soundwave who realized that the warlord’s hand transformed to something sharp that now pressed against his chest right above the spark chamber, next to the groundbridge wound. - “One thing I do not tolerate is disloyalty.” - The sharp tool pushed in between the armour plates and pried them open tearing the soft protoflesh underneath. A paroxysm of pain caused a contraction of the whole body that Soundwave could not stop. - “Is it here, close to your spark, that you dock your little pet who we all naively believed was gone to the Allspark? Because some of us were made believe he was gone, wasn’t that so…? And suddenly what a surprise.” 

Red fires blinked under Soundwave’s closed optic shutters, system warnings flashed like crazy, his fingers down on the ground bended convulsively into loose fists, knees dragged up to protect the body but were painfully stopped by the ties shredding the complex plating of the ankle joints. The self-repair of the wounded tissues tried to close the open gap in the chest but it was now blocked with something thrust in between keeping it open. The warmth of energon leaking from the torn veins gave him nausea and he felt like passing out. The internal data transfer went dramatically slow and the senses become blurry, everything dominated by the sensation of pain and panic. Powerless, he managed only to turn his head away from Megatron.

“You know what we call this, Soundwave?” - It reached him through the static induced by pain and system failures. - “*Treason*. And treason requires special treatment.” 

* * *

  
This “chat” took much too long for Shockwave’s assessment. A good few hours passed and Megatron wasn’t emerging from the lab or calling them either. Judging by the look of the warlord’s face when they were leaving him earlier today alone with the comms officer, there was something strange going on, obvious enough that even Shockwave’s minimal intuition was able to recognize. The look in the big mech’ optics gave the scientist rise for assumption that chances for a quick and successful use of the cortical psychic patch were inversely proportional to the time Megatron remained alone with his prisoner.  Finally he decided to pass by to see the progress and intervene if necessary.

With a slow pace of his heavy steps he went back to the lab and pinged at the door. Nothing happened. He pinged once more and then decided to open. He went in slowly seeing the warlord sitting next to the motionless prisoner, not tied to the table anymore. There was no need for that. Shockwave shook his head. 

“My Liege” - he said announcing his arrival.

Megatron did not react.

“May I…” Shockwave begun.

“Go ahead and do what you need to do” - His voice was rusty and old.

Shockwave approached the table. His right foot almost slipped on energon spilled all around on the floor. He looked at Soundwave. Without further checking he saw the communications officer was in total stasis lock. Shockwave ran a quick scan which, next to the excessive damage he could plainly see in front of him, revealed a low life signal, massive leaks and weak, volatile spark activity.

“He is not in any condition to connect or transfer anything.”

“Then take him down to the prison cell and make it well guarded until he wakes up” - Megatron did not turn or move when he spoke. 

“With all due respect, he needs medical attention if we want to connect him to the cortical psychic patch any soon or at all.” Shockwave suggested.

“Tomorrow” - Megatron’s voice did not accept any objection. 

“But”

“There is no but”

Shockwave could not comprehend the uselessness of Megatron’s illogical thinking. It was not a good moment to argue though. He lifted the offlined, heavily leaking body from the table and brought it carefully towards the door taking care not to cause further damage.

When he was about to leave, he heard Megatron behind him.

“He wouldn’t say a word, no matter what I did. He kept to his blasted silence…”

Shockwave stopped and replied without looking back.

“It is Soundwave, my Liege, Soundwave does not speak”

“Oh yes he does!” - Megatron hit something hard with his fist smashing it to pieces judging from the sound.

The scientist moved forward without any further reply. The door shut closed behind him leaving the warlord alone with his anger. Dark energon was boiling in his veins still blinding him a little but another feeling surfaced beyond anything else he felt so far. It was powerless grief over a total defeat…

A picture of black, matte nothingness has embedded behind his optic shutters and remained engraved in his memory even after he opened them. When he was opening that haunting mask he thought he would be smashed by the legendary weapon, but nothing happened. The only thing he found under the infamous visor of the, then already unconscious, communications chief, was a tangle of wirings, cabling and dead-looking small components that reminded of nothing particular, all carbon black, as if fried or burned, without any discernible structures. No eyes, no mouth, no facial features, no shade of anything he believed to find inside. The beast had no face, that was it, the whole secret that Soundwave was hiding… It was as simple as that. 

This was when he stopped. When he let go. As if someone just pressed an off button on his rage and dominance, and replaced it with weakness and sadness. 

So much too late to make any sense anyway...

Long after the door closed behind Shockwave, Megatron still felt how he was touching this deformity of the slenderbot’s face with his clawy fingers finding nothing that he was looking for.

An energon drop fell from the bloodied, now empty, table, echoing with a silent splash on the floor. 

“My sweet little Soundwave...” - the warlord sighed from the very depth of his chest and a few large oily tears dropped one by one diluting the blue colour of the fresh energon pool under his feet.

* * *

  
Shockwave brought Soundwave down to a prison cell three floors below leaving a blue path of energon-stained footprints behind along the corridor and in the lift. In the cell, he placed him cautiously on the bench. He kneeled down next to him and carefully pulled together the main parts of the fracture to secure from bleeding out too fast and sealed what he could using the emergency kit that he had at hand. It was far from any good, the wound was still open. This would have to do, however, for Soundwave to survive the night. The rest will need to be attended to tomorrow. The spark pulsed faintly but somewhat steadily. As much as he could assess with the inbuilt diagnostics there were still reasonable chances of survival of the undamaged parts of memory, but not necessarily of the rest of the tortured body. Also, luckily, the head and face remained mostly untouched. That was a relief. Megatron must have been wary of the infrasound defenses... At least it served as deterrent, even if it was not sure if it would fire off in this state at all. Or, perhaps was there yet something else? Something that was beyond comprehension? Shockwave put it off for later, classifying the problem as unimportant in the current circumstances. Autopsy will reveal everything anyway, and he will have all the time in the world. He honestly preferred not to. It was such a waste… 

Shockwave shook his head at the illogical situation and puzzled himself for a moment with the reasons for the warlord’s wrath towards his favourite so far companion. Himself he found excessive violence unreasonable when it led to no practical effect. And knowing Soundwave as well as he did, he was almost sure that no additional information could be acquired from him with such means. He had respect for Soundwave in that and many other extents. Now he regretted that he at all informed Megatron of his night discovery. His rational mind did not expect any such outcome. Theoretically he knew that he did not comprehend the emotional side of some behaviours too well, and obviously this time he was tremendously wrong in his calculations. He disliked the consequences and reproached himself this badly computed move. He should have done it his own way, he would have likely secured all he needed by now, without all this unnecessary outrage… He shrugged his shoulders heavily and left the cell locking the electric barred door behind with a rusty metal crash.


	9. Medic's Oath

The eye of the prison-cell camera looked patiently at the wounded mech lying unconscious by the wall. KnockOut, who followed the prison view through Nemesis surveillance systems, sighed deeply as he hastily turned the monitor off hearing the steps of Shockwave coming back out in the corridor. He turned around looking at the scientist who entered his surgery. 

“Do you know what he did?” - Shockwave asked.

“What?” - KnockOut pretended stupid, not knowing what would be a good answer.

“He bled him almost to death. And likely damaged his spark chamber. I haven’t seen such nonsense since long. Soundwave has massive amounts of information that I need. I will have to find a way to get it before it is to late. Tonight we are banned to go there, but latest in the morning you will have to patch him up and I must hack in. Better that he stays alive.”

KnockOut’s optics widened as nodded his head.

“Is it that bad? What exactly happened?”

Shockwave rolled his cyclop eye.

“You tell me, I do not understand. I conclude it must be *psychology*. My data query suggests Megatron is jealous about some insignificant Autobot femme that Soundwave might have mated with at some average probability. I understand friendly contacts with Autobots are not desired, but that level of punishment and fury is highly illogical even under such circumstances. But who am I to know?” - Shockwave looked displeased. - “I will wait a few hours as these *emotions* pass and then ask him to let us intervene so the mech doesn’t go permanently offline before I download what I have to”.

KnockOut nodded again.

“Let me know. I need to assist him as soon as possible.”

“Affirmative” - Shockwave stopped at the door for a moment. He considered something before he phrased it. - “He may be well gone to the Allspark by tomorrow. I don’t know about these *emotions* too well, but from a logical perspective that was strictly unnecessary and it will be a big waste for everyone.”

Then he turned and left the surgery abandoning KnockOut to his own thoughts. KnockOut remembered how disturbed Soundwave was after return from his mysterious venture a few weeks ago. So it was Arcee he was seeing… Not a bad choice in KnockOut’s view, although he would probably have chosen Smokescreen out of that pack down there, but that was a matter of preferences… Anyhow it did not make KnockOut happy to see such far reaching consequences of something he would have considered just a side leisure activity, a break in the sad monotony of the life on Nemesis. Who cared if Soundwave had a one night stand or two? The medic did not believe the communications officer would sell any secrets to her even if they spent hot nights under the moonlight together, he just couldn't imagine Soundwave as a traitor. And what on Cybertron got Megatron so possessed anyway? 

The young medic turned the prison camera view on again. It did not look good at all. He kept looking at the motionless picture, first trying to figure out from the surveillance how serious the injuries could be. Then he just looked. Then he closed his eyes and leaned back on his chair with a very bad, stifling feeling. He might have been what he was, a bit narcissistic young mech, not too brave, and maybe not the wisest one of all, but this was not what he gave the medic’s oath to allow for. War or battle was something else, but this...

KnockOut, same as everyone else, was aware of Megatron’s weakness for Soundwave, who was never officially promoted to any significant position, but was known to stand behind anything strategic and solid that happened on Nemesis. Soundwave was known as loyal, fully reliable and smartest of all, maybe with exception of Shockwave. His advice was always good. Cool, rational, clear. So much unlike the hectic and volatile Starscream, who always somehow got away with his multiple sins, some of them really capital ones. Why then this unforgiving treatment of Soundwave, if it was his first and only mistake?

KnockOut shivered. Megatron killed his best officers before, like it happened to the noble and full of dignity Dreadwing. But that was just a shot. One shot right into the spark and it was over. This time it was something else… Many hours of Primus knows what behind the closed doors. Very frightening. It seemed better to be out of scope of the warlord’s interests and affections in any way. If Shockwave was right, Soundwave had low chances to wait until the next morning for any treatment. On the other hand going down there and trying to fix him now, against Megatron’s clear orders would be an unforgivable folly with unpredictable consequences. Not going there though might mean the communications chief ultimate demise.

Somehow, after all this, KnockOut did not really want Soundwave to perish more than necessary. And it was enough already from what he saw on the monitoring to assess what was going to happen if he lay there unattended. For the first time ever he felt really sorry for the slenderbot. Maybe exactly for a similar reason to why Megatron was furious with him. This reason was the sentient symptoms that Soundwave seemed to have developed in the recent times. For his *normality* that started to look out from behind the, so far impermeable, visor. That was a Soundwave that KnockOut did not know before and that he started to like. And could relate to. It just could not end up like this.

Thinking it over, a strange and risky idea formed in his mind.

He stepped towards the locker where he had deposited the phaseshifter recuperated after a recent battle with said Smokescreen, which he took to his lab to examine and potentially understand its functionality allowing to pass through objects and even walls. Despite that his research brought little results, he was clumsy enough not to put it back to armoury storage yet. Maybe it was the right time to put this fact to some good use. If he did it smart...

* * *

  
The Vehicon soldier on the medberth fell into forced recharge. KnockOut knew he only had around ten minutes maximum to execute what he had planned. He sought up the little groundbridge launcher that was removed out of Soundwave’s system right after he was captured and brought unconscious to Megatron out of his chambers. The part had been cast away clumsily after removal and was easy to conceal unnoticed from the thrash that was later thoroughly recycled to scrap metal mass to be reused in casting new armour parts for Nemesis. KnockOut, curious of the strange structures of Soundwave’s body from medical perspective, retained it provisionally never knowing what use can it be to him later on. Even if it was for fixing him eventually. Now the use has become clear.

KnockOut hoped dearly that nobody noticed his little “theft”. Coward-natured, with a cold shiver of fear in his neck and the phaseshifter in hand, KnockOut sneaked out of the medbay through the wall right to the quarters of the current Vehicons’ shift. The only one of them who had time off at the moment, recharged powered down peacefully in his locked medbay lured in by the medic under the false premises of a small chassis repair. 

KnockOut passed through the cabin immediately, praying that his knowledge of security monitoring layout was sufficiently up to date. Next, he crossed a really thick soundproof floor down to the bottom of Nemesis where the prison cells were located. It was enough to go through a few empty confinements to get to where Soundwave was held. To his knowledge only occupied cells were monitored. To address this he had a tiny hacking device that could freeze the video for a few moments with a static picture of the situation, not really recording what was going on. He moved quickly, rushed by the cold fear, feeling the servos trembling as he phased through wall after wall. Then he blindly reached with his hand through the last wall before Soundwave's cell to plant in the small device at the camera there.

It seems to have clicked. If not, he could believe he was already dead in a matter of minutes.

Luckily, trusting too much in technology, nobody stood outside Soundwave’s cell too close. The guard Vehicons sat in the booth at the other end of the corridor and were biding their time doing nothing particular, probably sipping on some well hidden highgrade. The prisoner was beaten so badly that he couldn't move anyway, and if he died nobody wanted to be to close to the cell to be accused of helping him hide his secrets, even in such a twisted way. Anyway it was a risky business to guard the former communications officer and after fulfilling their initial curiosity they preferred to have nothing to do with the case anymore. It could only turn out into the worst, so they kept instinctively away, guarding preferably the only feasible entrance to the prison compartment where he was located. That sounded better than to look at what could happen to a bot that knew too much. 

KnockOut overheard them speaking about it between themselves out in the corridor terrified when some of them passed outside his door earlier, wondering what the right hand of Megatron have done and how volatile the friendship of the big lord could be. The current state of affairs just did not fit their processors. They perceived it impossible and were looking for most horrible justifications for the big boss cold rage against his favourite comms chief.

So KnockOut had a few minutes alone in relative peace to execute what he had planned. He looked at Soundwave that lay offline and motionless on the prison bunk. Stifling the feeling of dread inside him, KnockOut got to work. 

As Shockwave indicated, it did not look good at all. It looked horrible. But there was no time to do anything about it. The only thing he could do relatively quickly was to inject some medical grade energon and a small dose of decontaminants, which he did quickly, hoping it would at least give Soundwave some meager 1% more chances of survival. Then he took out the removed groundbridge part and found the small wound on the side of Soundwave’s chest where it was taken out from. Thanks to the previous treatment of deactivated groundbridge he performed that memorable day when the comms officer returned mistranformed after his infamous absence in unclarified circumstances, he knew a bit more about its construction and basic coding of the tool that he had to rehearse before its final operationalisation, atypical as it were. Well, his immense curiosity and some additional not strictly necessary examination he did then helped as well, not the first time and not the last. It could now serve for something helpful and pragmatic in the end…    
  
He quickly installed the missing part in the groundbridge mechanism and hacked into the system to activate the tool. He struggled a little to create a local circulation to keep it active for a reasonable time to execute the command. Then he programmed the most basic parameters, setting the coordinates of his last teleport which he assumed was the place where the comms chief was seeing his girlfriend for the last time. Then he set the timer to five minutes delay and a ping mechanism on the Laserbeak frequency to be activated right after the slenderbot would be deposited down to the ground and the groundbridge would close. He tried to balance it between the relative invisibility of the prisoner and possibility to transmit this high priority rescue call that should localise him for his lost avian symbiont. He thanked his nosyness again for that little script he fished out on the same occasion. It did not guarantee nothing, probably Soundwave pinged Laserbeak million times after the bird left, but he had no better idea to alert anyone. And Laserbeak had still the symbiont bond, so maybe, just maybe he would feel a warning once Soundwave would leave the heavily shielded environment of Nemesis… KnockOut was not at all sure if this was gonna work but it was the only thing he could figure out. So the only thing he could do was now pray to Primus that the blasted Laserbeak of all symbionts would receive the signal and get someone to fetch Soundwave in time.

Then he could only count on the Autobots to show some mercy. Preferably that slagging femme Arcee for whom the slenderbot fell so deeply as to endanger his whole position, career and eventually life. She would certainly talk the Autobots into saving him, the same way they must have been talked into hosting already his beloved birdie Laserbeak, as Megatron was complaining earlier today. 

Silly as the emphatic Autobots were with this kind of altruism, always ridiculed by the Decepticon leader, KnockOut felt a bit jealous of their ways. He just could not imagine what would happen here if this, what he was now doing, came to light and what danger it reasonably put him in. He was wondering over his own stupidity and reasons for this sudden act of mercy over someone he was not even friends with. He felt almost as if he were one of the ridiculed Autobots. And it felt somehow *good*. A thought passed his mind that he could eventually perhaps feel better among them instead of sitting in constant threat here on the power-side… A brief thought of teleporting himself together with Soundwave’s wreck of a frame crossed his mind, but the unknown was too unforgiving. No, not yet, not this time. It was not a good time for such deliberations. He needed to fire everything off and run away, before they realize that the picture on the CCTV is suspiciously frozen or someone seeks him up in the medbay. 

He activated the mechanisms, and silently withdrew through the wall deactivating the camera blocker device. Like a shadow he moved back through the still empty Vehicon quarters and landed safely in the medbay. His patient was still offline while KnockOut hid the phaseshifter swiftly where it belonged. He got back to the powered down soldier and induced a little code line in the machinery that woke him up clocking his mechanisms as if he never fell asleep while KnockOut skillfully pretended he just finished the polish on the small scratch on his visor that needed his optics closed.

A few compartments down to the left of his medbay a groundbridge launched of itself and teleported the tortured prisoner out of the killer ways of his former master and leader. 

The Vehicons from the prison guard booth got flashed right in the eyes as the motionless silhouette lying on the prison bunk disappeared into the yellow-green nothingness, with no idea where the other end of the disappearing tunnel lead. Panic broke out in the prison and the news spread as fast as a lightning. In a few moments Megatron ran raging across the corridor, floor shaking under his feet, throwing everyone aside, roaring and swearing in his resonant voice. 

At the same time KnockOut was discussing further treatment against scraplets with his patient, trying to hide his anxious expectation and silently regretting in one-tenth of his processor that he did not fire off with the comms chief together towards the, now so tempting, unknown. Fear was sitting under his chassis and would not move away for long, but so far KnockOut, skilled in cowardly lies and small deception, did not show anything and played his planned role well. Now for his own sake. As he heard the shouts at the corridor, they stormed out together with his patient to “find out” what was going on, a realization crept up down his spinal cord that perhaps he has just done the bravest act of his life, making him co-guilty of treachery, which would not leave things as they were anymore. 

This would not stop here, he knew it, and this would be tough and unpredictable. Whether Soundwave is ever found or not, if he wakes up or not, he, KnockOut himself, just did something that would move the wheel of time onto a new, totally different track, even if it was just and only for himself. It was not yet clear for him what could really become of that road he’s just taken, but he felt the change slipping through the dense atmosphere of Nemesis. As if something took over slowly, something unknown, maybe a doubt, maybe a little question mark… He remembered one sentence that soft-sparked and loose-tongued glitch Starscream expressed secretly in his exasperation one of those many times he failed to take down Megatron and obsequiously tried to buy himself back to the masters’ favours:  _ “Once we all stop lying to ourselves, any great cause will cease to exist” _ . 

* * *

  
Nemesis woke up slowly. It took her a few clicks to digest the new circumstances. Her own memory banks flushed her with painful visions of what happened. A low dark engine hum shook the floors and ceilings of the warship, frightening assistant engineers for a slight moment as her engines jumped in a few irregular combustions over the visuals flashing through her multi-core. She felt raped herself and her rage was fierce and savage but the paralysis locked her inert, not able to do much or almost anything about what she just saw and understood. So, she did the only she could. She sought out KnockOut and scanned his EM field with her circuits feeling the shiny glow around him, so different from everyone else running around in the corridors. She pinged him a short anonymous glyph of reassurance while shielding his beautiful flickering field and closing it tightly around him as if in an invisible caring hand, so that nobody could feel it, even if just subconsciously.

Then, with a tremendous effort of her glitching core, she manipulated the surveillance recordings from secret cameras in KnockOut’s medbay as well those placed in the prison corridor that caught KnockOut’s red armour, cutting out what needed to be cut and tampering with time signatures. Then, exhausted, she fell back to her timeless nightmarish recharge and deep, slow, embedded processes of balancing gravity against speed.

She knew that, with Soundwave gone and Shockwave leaving soon, she would have no serious engineering support for long, but she had been preparing for it for quite some time building up her self-repair to survive the toughest times: times of rage and revenge and times of weakness, until the unknown reigns back… hopefully. Even she could not foresee the unknown. For now, what was left for her to do in the prison of her own gigantic body was to float freely across the space and pretend she did not exist, watching carefully what would the wheel of fortune bring the next morning. It was fair enough for her enormous ancient patience. Will do…


	10. Bleeding Energon

This time she did not hide from anyone. She just simply opened the groundbridge without asking anyone anything or explaining what happened, and she teleported away to the coordinates almost thrust into her by the freaked out and frenzied Laserbeak. She disappeared in the yellow-green haze almost running, before Ratchet or anyone managed to react.

The coordinates were precise and she landed just right to find Soundwave lying on the ground in the place where they had seen each other last time. Alerted with his dark, unresponsive, motionless shape lying in a strange position, she leaped the last few remaining steps forward to see him totally unconscious blotted in energon on the ground. She cautiously turned him over just to realize what state he was in. Her warrior nature did not give her time to freeze over the sight.

Without any hesitation or unnecessary thinking beyond the reasonable analysis of her fragmented medical knowledge, she lifted him with effort, trying not to damage or hurt him anymore. She felt the heavy dead weight of his frame bending her knees and dragging her hands down as she walked back to the still open groundbridge carrying him in her arms. His body was leaking all over her. The mix of his coolants, energon and sticky lubricants as well as fluids from his hydraulics stained her hands and armour leaving a wet track behind her. A darkening stain was glimmering black and blue in the place where she lifted him, burning the folded mountain grass with its chemistry.

She walked heavily the few steps needed to cross the bridge. These were lead-footed steps and they felt like forever.

The air warmed as she entered the safety of the base. She looked up, standing in the aureole of the groundbridge, to meet the five  pairs of painted surprise optics gleaming in shades of blue waiting on the other side.

One pair of small deep crimson-purple eyes glided from behind her with speed of light stopping abruptly above them as Laserbeak shoved forward across the groundbridge.

“Can you… help me, ...please” - she asked with a visible effort towards the astonished crew as heavy drops were splashing down to the base floor collecting at her feet like melting snow, dripping slowly of her thighs and arms as she held him, wings dangling uselessly down to the very floor.

“What the hell…” - Bulkhead opened and closed his mouth as an expression of horror painted on his face.

Ratchet moved forward first. - “To the medbay” - he ordered. - “And close that fraggin groundbridge” - he shot over his shoulder to Bumblebee who stood as frozen as anyone else. Then, he went forward to the surgery as Optimus took over the burden from Arcee.

Laserbeak circled impatiently above them but did not get in the way. Deep fear, that no-one noticed, shone in his eyes full attention paid to his offlined guardian.

They brought him right to the medberth staining all the way with the sticky fluids of his body. His chest was visibly fractured, legs, midsection and arms were covered in lesions. The ankles and wrists were torn and wore visible signs of ties. They placed him down carefully and Ratchet looked closer, his face reminding of a storm cloud not promising any good news whatsoever.

“Spark chamber…” - he murmured - “Out, everybody out.” - he ordered in a rough voice. - “Arcee, go wash yourself and come back, I will need your help”.

Optimus looked at them in silence and then stared at Soundwaves visor and the wounded chest and ragged tissues on his inner legs and belly. He shook his head and left without a word.

“Get the slagging bird out too, I am trying to work here, in HYGIENE” - Ratchet hissed irritated and Optimus nodded at Laserbeak who reluctantly lowered down and sat on the bossbot’s arm looking intensely back at his master.

“Come with me little one” Optimus said almost compassionately to Laserbeak. “He needs medical help now, you will have a lot of time later to greet him back.” And he stroke the little bird head and neck lightly. Laserbeak obeyed. His crimson eyes met Arcee’s intensive blind stare and it seemed it woke her up. She almost physically felt Laserbeak urging her to hurry up, and sending over his trust in her to do something, what he himself could not do. Laserbeak’s fear was intense and deep even though he was not docking she understood his emotions very well.

She set off to the wash rack.

When she entered the bathroom she just stopped for a moment in front of the only mirror they had in the base and looking at her own reflection she realized how much she was covered in Soundwave’s fluids. The cuts and the leak must have been really bad, who knows what effect they could take eventually. She smeared her finger across her energon stained frame and raised it slowly in front of her eyes smelling her hand and looking at it closer. It was glowing bluish and was drying much too quickly. Energon thinned by cooling liquids… It was at the same time mixed with oily substances from his protoflesh micro-hydraulics most likely, which would mean that both his cooling and his locomotor systems were badly damaged.

Then some undefined urge made her taste it from the tip of her fingers in an impulsive gesture. It had a mixed flavour of energon, oil and metal, a little sweet, a little bitter. She froze for a moment realizing that it was his blood she was tasting, something coming deep from inside him, his life force perhaps...  And she got afraid suddenly. Feeling the taste still in her mouth she recalled his dead weight in her arms, his long wings dragging behind as if he were a very heavy toy, and not a living, or ...a dying... creature. A shiver of fear ran across her frame and she felt her spark shrinking at the thought. Now it smelled and tasted everything that meant death and loss. Yet she resented the idea to wash it of herself as if she wanted to preserve this strange closeness to what was his. As if she gave up... No. This could not be. She forced this feeling away and opened the sprinklers to quickly get herself ready to assist Ratchet. She wanted to be back to the medbay as much as she feared it.

When she was washing herself she realized that there was yet something else… that irritated her surface sensors, and her mouth especially. Strangely bitter, acidic, somewhat smelting her coatings… what else was that he had inside besides what was his own? She washed everything off very precisely and almost ran back to the medbay with a frightening idea building on the top of her tongue…

* * *

  
Ratchet looked carefully at the offlined body of Soundwave assessing the wounds thoughtfully. With a swift glance of an experienced medic’s eye he could see that they bore signs of hasty medical interventions as if someone tried to seal the most open and dangerous leaks, maybe secretly and quite in a rush, but anyway it made a difference limiting the bleeding and increasing chances of survival.

The chest was cut open. Or, better said, ripped open, as the only thing cut was the armour, while the internal structures and protoflesh were literally torn apart, spark deep. The real destruction lay inside, as if someone tried to *find* something hidden. Traces of something with corrosive effect were also apparent without too much examination.

The spark chamber fracture, together with multiple perforations and leakages and damage in critical subsystems created the biggest threat. The medical scanner showed some very faint spark activity but it seemed that the spark was unsealed and dehydrating. The first thing to do now was, after connecting to basic life support, to seal the spark chamber or otherwise it would extinguish in a matter of measurable time. While others may have been guessing, Ratchet knew what was that quick drying liquid that leaked the most… and he wasn't even sure if he had an appropriate refill but if he wanted to save the patient, he had to use what he had at hand.

The wounds covering Soundwave’s legs and belly were not pleasant either, but also for other reasons than the one in the chest. They were not really as dangerous _per se_ , although they would cure long and in Soundwave’s case the distributed memory units did not make it easier to fix. However, Ratchet’s long years of medical experience told him clearly that these wounds were not injuries originating from a decent fight between peers, but from something that particularly Arcee would perhaps not want to know about. Not particularly because she was a femme, she has seen worse things than that and she was a warrior all the same as everyone else, but he had an awkward feeling that wounds of this sort on *this* particular mech might be disturbing for her in a special way. Among others, there were long and deep claw marks of and wiring torn out of places beyond normal reach… She was the most medically skilled and best fit for the task out of the whole team, trained well as nurse and assisting to surgeries before. However… *However*. Well... He considered for a moment if it was really a good idea that he asked particularly her for help, and decided to make sure when she’s back.

The head was almost the only thing left almost undamaged. The visor cracked a little but was left on. Someone must have known about the infrasonic capacity that was clear for Ratchet from Arcee’s story. A good way to preserve the most sensitive data, although the location connected to the head was in this case not fully a perfect match, as it seemed memory was everywhere inside him where any safety could be provided, and only Soundwave must have known how the contents were distributed and backups made… Maybe the tormentor left it to be checked out after getting rid of the subjects spark, which would have likely deactivated the defense system permanently. Not sure however if there was damage under, it would have to be taken off to see for sure. Later.

Ratchet connected auxiliary circulation system to stabilize the basic functions of the body and carefully started dismantling the complex chest plating. He had to get inside in a matter of priority, at least open up a little bit to freely reach and examine the spark chamber and secure the fracture from further leaking, otherwise it could fail even despite the connected life support. It was not easy, as the plating was battered and tangled with sharp edges clinging at each other and not letting go. Massive amounts of small movable elements of the damaged docking ports did not make it faster, they were now stuck and their rooting structures dislocated. The multiple delicate internal data ports were also methodically smashed and destroyed. Ratchet shuddered at how deliberately these sensitive, almost intimate parts were chosen. They contained important sensory nodes and delicate cilia that connected with the symbiont for nutrition and data transfer. In general they were a way in to the circulation and sensory systems. And, as much as Ratchet remembered, the ports were directly connected to the processor networks, transmitting sensations quickly and efficiently, with touch being the primary sense they operated, as it steered their main functionalities.

He bit his mouth plates as he carefully removed the parts of smashed, corroded and smelted ports, that bared signs of a failed forced connection, along with other loose bits of wiring torn around them. He placed it all in order on the table below. He tried to unlock the stuck chest plates but they required further cutting to get open. The anesthetic must have already settled in the systems of the anyway offlined Soundwave but that was rather just a precaution than real need because Ratchet couldn’t imagine his patient waking up now.

Bit by bit he methodically moved forward, cleaning up the huge wound as much as possible before Arcee was back to help cut it back open for the operation, wondering how was that possible that the spark inside was still pulsing while there was no bit so far in the chassis that seemed whole and fully functional. The corrosive substance was a problem leaving toxic contamination that was difficult to remove in the narrow crevices infecting the tissues that were hard to reach. It seemed that the main reason for the presence of it was an attempt to inject it to the overall energon circulation system. Hopefully a failed one, Ratchet sighed to himself, and put aside a sample for examination trying to check what kind of poison was that exactly. Anyway the auxiliary circulation would clean it up from the veins at least. Hopefully.

At the same time a sense of admiration grew in Ratchet for the level of precision and complexity of the construction in the creature that lay in front of him. He seemingly had much more elaborate architecture than any usual mech. He was actually not so well armoured as Ratchet was expecting. On the contrary he was quite fragile and instead filled with very detailed components whose function was not so always fully clear to the medic, but they seemed to have memory and processing functions everywhere, among the obvious mechanical or electronic parts like hydraulics, gears, generators, capacitors and the rest. He could fix these, but the mysterious processing chips and crystals had to wait for self repair to kick in.

He focused on reaching the spark chamber when Arcee entered from the disinfection chamber next door. As in the times when Ratchet was teaching her basics of medicine she was now in full readiness to support.

“Corrosives” she uttered looking at Ratchet who nodded.

“Already took a sample, I will check in a moment what that is exactly, but anyway it needs to be pumped and filtered all out of the system.”

The forced professional look on her face faded away the moment once she saw Soundwave stretched on the operating table with his chest opened up and gutted as if he was some rusty corpse brought from scrap-heap for parts. After Ratchets initial cleaning, the wound now was visible to the full of its gravity. Her eyes slipped next to the ruptured legs, and an exasperated sigh escaped her vents.

The medic looked skeptically for a moment seeing Arcee collecting herself.

“You sure you can do this?” - he asked.

“Yes” - she replied very quietly.

“It looks bad. And he is your… ehm, friend.” - Ratchet grunted not being able to find a proper word. - "There are things that are not ...nice... here. Someone did a very nasty job on him. If you wanna back off, I will ask Bumblebee”.

“I… I see it already.” - she said. - “I can… I want to do it”.

And he saw how her gaze darkened a little still stuck firmly in Soundwave's chest where a very weak blue light of his spark was showing through the deep laceration. Since the last meeting she longed to see him, to touch him, even more than ever... But never like this. A guilty thought crossed her processor. How much did this have to do with her? Was that her fault? Who did it? Megatron? How much did they know? Her eyes drifted through the medbay door window to the hall meeting the crimson shiny optics of Laserbeak on the other side, and she felt a great anger filling her inside. Laserbeak’s anger - which mixed with her fear and denial.

She looked away in determination.

“What do we do?” - she asked firmly.

“In the first place, we need to open him up and seal the spark chamber, refilling it with this” - he raised a glass container filled with crystallic liquid. - “Energon plasma. This is what I found in our stock, it will have to do.”

She nodded and approached the table. Ratchet worked slowly and thoroughly, giving her precise and clear instructions. They dismantled what they could without possibly causing further harm, layer by layer, exposing the fragile internals and complicated wirings, complex components including nano-brazings and amazing metallic and crystalline structures. They cleaned carefully the harmful corrosives, removed the overburnt bits, or at least what Ratchet was sure that was too damaged to work or self repair. They tried to be the least intrusive possible, not fully understanding the way he was built and some functions of components they found. Finally they had enough reach to work on the spark chamber.

The faint blue spark was almost extinguished, but still floating in the rest of remaining plasma. It was pulsing very weak with almost indiscernible light, so different to the blissful one that flooded her not so long ago. No strength was left, almost no living force. _::Is this how we all end?::_ she thought and felt the bitter-sweet taste from the bathroom in her mouth, with something more in it, the swallowed energon tears that never reached her optics but found her way to be recycled across the system and adding their taste biting through the denial and refusal to internalise the situation she found herself in.

Arcee felt her hands tremble a little as Ratchet asked her to hold Soundwave’s armour back to the sides. It took ages while he performed the delicate sealing operations, but she held on, feeling her servos weakening of the monotonous effort and her own spark pulsing in anxiety. But she was grateful to Ratchet that she could assist him. She could not imagine herself sitting next door and doing nothing with no influence over the situation, being flooded with questions from others to which she did not have any answer to. So much better that she could still do something and did not need to talk to anyone. There will be time to wait idly, she knew this. Now she was *doing* something, *addressing* the situation, she took *action*, and that was the only thing important. She was not made for waiting and sighing.

Finally Ratchet carefully brazed and soldered what could be brazed and soldered, making sure the main life-giving arteries were reconnected, plasma filters attached and sealed, any remains of the corrosive cleaned out and energon lines functional. Then he carefully injected the crystallic fluid from his jar, slowly immersing the fainting spark and retracting the air in a delicate process. The medical machinery beeped and ticked in the background, spreading its sound waves across the dense silence of the confined space of the medbay. Arcee glared intensely at the old grumpy doctor’s servos as they transformed into all kinds of medical tools, working skillfully on the almost impossible assignment. And Soundwave’s spark pulsed very delicately under the hardworking appendages of these old Cybertronian lifesaving hands. She muted a sound of swelling awe and respect. Yes, she was grateful and full of esteem for the old, wise mech next to her, and it filled her for a moment with a feeling of bliss and a small light of hope for that blue light flickering there inside after all. She felt trust and it was rare.

“Now we need to clean the rest of this mess. We have to check the rest and in eight more hours we can perhaps recharge” - Ratchet murmured bringing her back to reality. *Eight hours*? Did they just work eight hours? Did anyone come in the meantime? Bring them energon, anything? What was wrong with her that she did not even remember or notice the passing of all that time.

She only nodded silently and they slowly worked through the rest that needed to be done before closing the spark back to safety. Getting rid of remaining signs of corrosives and the dead, rusting elements was crucial to avoid further decay and infection. She moved slightly towards the lower parts of Soundwaves body starting from checking below the chest removing some bits of abdominal plates in order to finish off and see about the midsection fractures, reconnect and seal some damaged wirings. It was only then when she suddenly saw *THIS*.

A short stifled cry escaped her voice box. She gripped her own belly with both hands and her optics widened while she faltered a bit in place.

Ratchet followed her void staring optics, just to see a new mutilation that they did not take note of so far. Under the now removed abdominal plates, short bits of what remained of Soundwave’s datacables was creased and stuffed in the small spacing where these unique limbs usually retracted, now filled with some impossible scrap that contained bits and pieces of the tentacles themselves, his own parts from the main wound and Primus knows what else, all greased in dried energon and oils. Optical fibres were stripped and ragged, the multitool endings with their now dead tendrils smashed and battered fell out to the floor as she opened the casings. Everything was shredded into pieces.

Ratchet sighed loudly raising his optics at the petrified face of Arcee. Arcee stood stiff frozen, immersed in the memory of these same tentacles, most agile and tender, embracing her and hugging her close to Soundwave two days ago. Warm, alive, pulsing. Her memory drifted through the strength and gentleness of the embrace, to the pounding of his spark that they transmitted, and eventually the *kiss* with which he left her before he flew away to the night sky…

She shut and onlined her optics again, but nothing changed. Ratchet saw her face almost changing colour in a moment of pure anger and hate, her optics turning dark blue, almost purplish, and her mouth shut tight nearly bending the cheek plates that did not have enough flexibility to easily follow the steel grip of her fury.

“I will find and kill the slagging fragger who did this” - she hissed through her voice box only. - “He will regret he has ever been sparked” - It was the coldest statement Ratchet has heard from her since long and he made a note to self to tell Optimus to watch out for Arcee and keep her busy in the coming days to avoid a possible disaster. There was enough unknown and danger in this situation as it was without revenge-driven ideas and actions from a fierce Arcee who could be completely unpredictable as they already knew it.

“Arcee, you should rest now. I can handle the rest of this ....patchwork… I just need you for one thing. We need to take his mask off and check his face, if no damage is there.”

Arcee looked at him with a question mark in her optics.

“I think that you might know how to overcome this… infrasound thing that I assume took you out last time”.

“How would I…” - she started.

“Maybe Laserbeak knows something...”

Arcee raised her optics across the medbay window and saw Laserbeak still there, squeezed to the glass, looking a bit like a scarecrow now, bristling, tired and attentive.

“Go. I will take care of the data links…” Ratchet would in normal circumstances say ‘tentacles’ but now it suddenly sounded inappropriately in front of Arcee. Actually he noticed how her feelings, though concealed as much as possible, changed the whole attitude of the Autobot team to their current patient. Well, not that they would leave anybody to death on purpose normally, but he was a Con and a badass one, no-one would fetch him to base in the first place if it was not for interrogation maybe. Ratchet himself would complain about it in the first place and never even touch that life saving jar of plasma for such a purpose…  But now her determination was all over the place and it brought change in their attitude. It made it important to make Soundwave wake up. It also made himself, Ratchet, curious. Without bringing him to base by Arcee probably they would not have even found out that his wounds came from torture. That says something, puts things in a new perspective and they needed to discuss the further strategy as soon as he was done here.

Arcee left the medbay on soft knees. She ignored the others and headed straight to Laserbeak. She approached him at the medbay window and stroke gently across the neck plates. The avian leaned to the caress for a moment and then, without a word he docked as if he understood what she came for.

 _::Those miracles happen::_ \- Ratchet murmured in his thoughts grumpily and continued work feeling tiredness creeping up his backstrut.

Arcee petted on Laserbeaks head delicately and sat down leaning against the wall. She shut her optics and focused deeply on the thought of what she needed. She felt how the energon flowed between her and the little symbiont. It soothed her, same as before, but she also felt the deep angst and anxiety flowing to her from him. - “It’s important” - she whispered, stroking the bird’s head and cupping her hand around it protectively.

Nothing happened for a few moments but then she felt like her head and body filled with strange emotions from a very very distant past, like a dream, accompanying a semi-conscious file transfer that reached her remote access memory pending to be saved and read. Somewhat shyly she accepted the file and memorised it. It contained a complex specification and a very simple workaround instruction. And then she got up again and entered back to the medbay.

“We don’t need to take it off mechanically. There is a port you can tap in. It should work even while he’s unconscious and you can run a full medical scan through it. It’s heavily firewalled but the health status can be reached with an instruction I have from Laserbeak. The trouble starts if there are serious injuries”.

“Show me the port”

She cautiously turned Soundwave’s head to the side and sought for it carefully in line with the knowledge she received from Laserbeak. Under a little curve of the armour in the back of his neck there were some looser plates that revealed indeed a small data port that looked as alien as half of the things about Soundwave. Ratchet looked there and considered how to connect. She also checked it and then her attention was again pointed by Laserbeak to cable tips lying among the discarded parts found inside Soundwave’s tentacle casings. Ratchet took it following her indication. He connected the wires according to his general logic and after some struggle it seemed to work. The scan revealed only one a bit older wound seemingly sewn together already and taken care of the self repair and no need for additional intervention at this stage.

They both sighed in relief at the findings.

“You can go to bed now” - Ratchet prompted her. - “It is manageable now. I think he will survive”

These words sounded in her head as she washed herself again and then moved staggering over to the big couch in the living room across the hall refusing to go any further. She still heard these words in her head as she was falling into shallow recharge.

_::I think he will survive::_

* * *

  
After she left Ratchet examined the remaining wounds carefully, shaking his head from time to time as he cleaned up, stitched and stapled the torn protoflesh, welding the broken armour plating and applying decontaminants and anti-rusters.

Although Arcee was a tough cookie, he did not want her to work with these wounds more than strictly necessary. Their origin was more than clear to him and he imagined that a girl in love would not be particularly enchanted to pounder too much over their actual nature. Even if the object of affection was a Decepticon officer. Apart from all that was clear and what they discussed with Optimus, he saw it perhaps most clearly in her optics when she stumbled upon the shredded datacables. It was not hard to decipher from her face and her whole posture. Right, of course, he thought about it before and he still let her work with him. He swore silently to himself.

In the meantime the analysis of the corrosive substance finished in his lab apparatus. He took a closer look at the results and saw what he suspected. It was no corrosive that poisoned and destroyed the patient’s tissues. It was residues of dark energon that Soundwave’s body rejected and tried to dispose of...

He looked thoughtfully at the outprint on his screen. Dark energon. Unicron’s blood. A powerful substance with unpredictable side effects. Infused... and rejected. According to intelligence they had, Megatron had dark energon added to his own system for some time already. So he or someone tried to do the same with Soundwave now. But obviously Soundwave’s system treated it as poison and tried desperately to dispose of the substance. Not sure if consciously or was that a natural incompatibility but it seemed to be a fact. His body did not accept the powerful drug, with a devastating side effect of decomposition of the substance to toxic and reactive elements. Strange, very strange, probably even his own, Ratchet’s system would somehow intake the dark energon. But not Soundwave’s. Why was that? Was he immune to it and the evil it contained? What the hell was that supposed to mean?

* * *

  
Megatron did not know what to do with himself. He paced the floor of the Nemesis bridge nervously back and forth giving chaotic orders from time to time. It has been a few days since the mysterious vanishing of Soundwave from the prison cell. Nobody saw or knew literally anything and no search gave any result, apart from some signs of spilt energon next to the mine entrance from where the infamous footage was taken. But no further trace whatsoever suggested where he could have gone further on. A thorough search of his empty quarters gave no results either. Save for a piece of mirror there was nothing of interest, but nobody had an idea what use could the commbot have of a mirror.

He just disappeared into the thin air. No life signal was detected anywhere neither of Soundwave nor Laserbeak. They were either both dead or really well shielded.

On one hand it was no wonder. As talented and equipped the communications chief was, Megatron had no doubt that he was able to hide his energy signature from the visibility of their systems. He namely could do anything, *if* he were healthy and well. However who else than Megatron could know better how unwell he was last time they saw each other… It was simply not possible that he survived, it was even not possible that he groundbridged at all. How did he get hold of a groundbridge launcher? Wasn’t it properly removed? But he saw to it and checked the removal himself...  Did he have a second one? Soundwave’s biology was twisted and it could contain various things no-one had any idea about. But if he did, he would logically use it and disappear right away from the start, without even getting his armour scratched. Did someone put the bloody device back in?

In the first instance Megatron looked suspiciously at Shockwave as the one who took care of the locking the prisoner in his cell and also had a strong nature of someone who does not obey orders if he finds them unreasonable. Megatron suspected that Shockwave could find the whole thing with Soundwave illogical, as it bore signs of unreasonability even from a large distance. But would he go so straight against a clear instruction? KnockOut was the second suspect as the one who might have failed the proper groundbridge removal… Although if he failed it was back to the same question of usage… Impossible. And how did he wake up? He was in total stasis-lock, spark-chamber damaged, absurd again…

Did anyone help him? The guards and the security cameras saw nothing. Megatron ran all the recordings back and forth across all Nemesis surveillance systems. There was *nothing* to be seen or clarify this miracle.

Both Shockwave and KnockOut were not of much help, peering at him weirdly and seeming to avoid him. Shockwave was mentioning something about necessity to finish the visit and move on in his journey to do some jobs that awaited him elsewhere in the galaxy, which Megatron tried to prevent as much as possible, not imagining who else could manage the complex engineering part of Nemesis maintenance now that Soundwave was gone.

KnockOut behaved as usual, quarreled with Starscream occasionally, took good care of the looks of his sleek sports car chassis plating and did all the usual nice-good-looking-guy-type of things, but for some reason he never landed in the same room with Megatron alone.

Starscream talked too much and annoyed everyone, but at least he was entertaining. He was the only one of the three remaining high-rank officers who learned about Soundwave’s situation only from gossips, and being only recently back to the warlord’s graces, he commanded the search for the lost prisoner together with some of his remaining clones, with no results whatsoever. He also had good reasons to be happy about disappearance of the surveillance bot who knew much too much about his multiple attempts of coup d’etat and other power struggles behind Megatron's back. So, for Starscream, Soundwave would better not appear back ever again. This made him quite less efficient than desired in the “rescue” missions, and he treated the futile chase after the hated ghost of Soundwave more as an adventure then a real objective.

At the same time having no proof and no good theory, with low personnel numbers at hand and a clearly nervous situation onboard as gossips spread quickly, Megatron limited himself only to exemplary punishment of the unlucky prison guards on duty that night. He played cool and staying as close to the truth he announced officially Soundwave’s treachery and high probability of his death, maintaining however a high alert level onboard without ceasing the neverending search. On top he promised a proper reward for finding the missing prisoner, dead or alive.

Days on Nemesis passed nervously but the practical routines of energon mining and searches for the lost Cybertronian relics destined to gain advantages over the Autobots took most of the time not allowing Megatron to think excessively too much of the problem.

But at night, at night it was becoming worse. When the door to Megatron’s quarters closed behind him the ghosts were coming alive. Nemesis propulsion and antigrav systems hummed ominously in the silence of the recharging crew. No-one walked on the corridor, nobody disturbed his quiet time, but something heavy seemed to be flowing down from the ceiling and settling itself on his shoulders, whispering alien glyphs, making the air dense around him. Dark energon droned in his veins and shone purple light through his eyes at the walls around him. He tried to power down, but whenever he closed his optics he saw all the same. The bloodied body on the table, bending heavily under the weight of them both and the misshapen tangle of black, fried-like dead wiring that filled the space that was supposed to be Soundwave’s face. Numb and empty to the touch. Empty almost literally, leaving impression that if he reached deeper through it, his hand would pass across, right to other side, unhindered by anything real. But it didn’t. And the feeling of dead touch stayed there, on his hands, sticking to them fast and not letting go. It couldn’t be washed off, it could not be deleted, it remained and haunted him. He raised his hands up in front of his eyes and he saw a black imprint of the dreaded wiring on his palms and fingers. It seemed to flicker slightly and dissolve slowly into ash and leaf off falling down to the floor making a dripping noise like heavy drops of water… or energon. A silent splash, drop after drop… He looked down but saw nothing, while heavy air pressed his shoulders down, down to the ground, and his spark pulsed nervously.

Once, irritated over the lingering creepy insomnia, he got up in the middle of the night and left his quarters angrily passing to the other side of the ship, to Soundwave’s quarters. Furiously he smashed the door irreversibly open and without turning the light on he stopped in the middle of the small empty room venting deeply. Then he looked at the desk, at the only object of interest in the otherwise impersonal and sterile premises: the piece of broken makeshift mirror placed against the wall reflecting the light of his optics onto the ceiling at an angle. In slow steps he came closer and took the mirror in his hand. He raised it up in front of his face and looked at his own reflection. The shadows behind him seemed to move and stare as he was watching his own wry face pictured in the glass. They were not sharp but with a corner of his optic he caught movement at the back of the room. A tall, thin, winged, masked figure seemed to condense of the shadows right behind him. He turned around in an instant but there was nothing. Suspiciously he looked at the mirror again focusing on the darkness behind. The hollow shadows seemed to be floating and hovering away from his focus, and densifying right at the margins of what became completely blurry. He was almost sure they were forming into thin fingers, tentacles and long wings coming alive exactly when he did not look into that direction. Fear started creeping up his backstrut cabling pressing energon to circulate faster and faster. He closed his optics and vented heavily. This wasn’t happening. Someone or something was playing tricks on him. He felt as anger started filling his veins again. Good. This was what he knew. This was how he functioned… He onlined the optics again.

Driven by a fresh dose of fury he smashed the mirror against the floor in one fast move breaking it into a million small pieces in a loud echoing crash. It scattered to all directions throwing purple reflexes on all the walls, creating a surreal effect of violet-star-prickled sky around him. All the little bits seemed to be looking at him.

He ran out through the broken door that would not close behind him and rushed straight to the bridge. Purple reflexes chased him across the corridor and he had a feeling they were sticking onto his armour shining and blinking at him everywhere he looked.

The night shift of Vehicons on duty looked surprised at the agitated warlord that stormed into the bridge at the most unexpected time of the night. He shouted something at them but felt grateful for their presence, it brought back the feeling of reality. He mocked checking a few things on the main computer and then for a moment he looked through the warships windshield into the night outside while dark cloudy thoughts of uncertainty and revenge crossed his mind.

It just must have been her. That blasted Autobot femme. Why did he not see it before? He remembered clearly her enchanted face and slim and tasty body wrapped in Soundwave’s tentacles. The slagged witch used her magic over the communications bot. With her witchcraft, she woke him up from his lifelong emotionless spell, extracting his beauty and attraction to the plain sight, heating up his EM field... And then she took the prize right from in front of Megatron’s nose, cheating him, stealing from him, the rightful owner... Oohhh, he had been so blind all those years having Soundwave just right beside him and not doing anything about it. It took the freaking *sensuality* to notice these wings belonged to someone more than a servant machine.

So she made a fool out of him, Megatron, she, ruined his… plans? Opportunities... Crossed his will. Stole away his most valuable property, his most loyal favourite, his chosen, his only friend, his… ... Megatron choked at the next word that emerged in his mind. It went too far. It was unacceptable. And it stood too much in contrast with objective facts and all his own actions. Nobody would do what he did to someone he… … He muted it before it appeared again. Nonsense. What on Cybertron was now happening with him? He clenched his fists angrily, and felt how his weapons charged out of his control. She must have somehow located the unconscious Soundwave on Nemesis and, despite all the shielding, groundbridged him down to their base. Or somewhere he could not be found. That *would* explain everything.

He needed to get to her, find her and smash her, destroy her, burn her down. Let her share her lover’s fate if she cares so much. Let her perish and suffer all the same. Let her… taste his wrath.

Slowly and heavily he left the bridge and went out to the landing deck outside. He vented the cold wet air of the cloud-heavy night. After a moment he transformed and took off on a lonely, much too speedy, flight in the stormy electricity-charged starless darkness. The ghosts would not chase him out there.  
  
Would they?


	11. Alive

He did not know where he was and for how long.

First awakening came slow and blurry. In the beginning he saw just a dim light of a very small lamp lit in the middle of the night. Otherwise everything else was drowned in darkness. He also heard rhythmic beeping of some machinery.

Then someone’s blue optics opened above him. Memory did not work, and the only thing he felt was an emotion. That emotion was a dream. Everything was floating in the dim light. He sighed again, feeling he was drifting apart to many directions at the same time. Unhindered, free, released from the chains of logic or any other constraints. Just hovering around things that were basic, taken out of the core of life. The colours, the smells, the touches. The blue optics above him focused and defocused in the blurry vision and he heard some very distant voices. Then he passed out again.

* * *

  
Next time he woke up for longer. First he heard the distant voices again, then warm pain signalled by his self repair systems mixed up with a predominant feeling of numbness coming from anesthetics of which he now was more aware. His system woke up slowly from stasis, registering life functions:

 **_****hardware status report****  
_** **_function: spark:_ ** _operational; critical fracture and leak detected, status: fixed through external intervention; plasma filling: obsolete; compatibility: acceptable; self-repair: in progress; priority: HIGH; ETR: undefined;_  
_***CRITICAL WARNING: full life support dependency***_  
**_function: main processor network:_ ** _operational; capacity: LOW; risk of overheating; dependency on oth life functions: HIGH; ETR: 0_  
**_function: energon circulation:_ ** _severely damaged, multiple leaks detected; 40% fixed through external intervention, status: malfunctioning; self-repair: in progress; ETR: 15 orn -- 30 orn -- 45 orn_  
_***WARNING: full life support dependency***_  
**_function: memory systems:_ ** _operational, partially damaged, status: self-repair: in progress, permanent failures: 3% overall capacity, data recovery in progress; ETR: 23 orn -- 45 orn -- 68 orn_  
**_function: locomotor system:_ ** _severely malfunctioning: repair process prompted by external intervention, self-repair: in progress; status: 92% disabled due to oth life functions dependency; ETR: 10 orn -- 38 orn -- 70 orn_  
**_function: cooling systems:_ ** _malfunctioning; 45% overall damage; status: operational; capacity: critical; oth life support functions dependency; high risk of overheat at any activity; ETR: 14 orn -- 28 orn -- 42 orn_  
**_function: electricity circuits and sensory networks:_ ** _operation recovered after severe trauma; overcharge risk: HIGH; external armour sensitivity set on LOW; subjective pain perception: 78% overridden by anesthetics; reaction time: LOW; ETR: 3 orn -- 15 orn -- 27 orn_  
**_function: protoflesh:_ ** _malfunctioning; severe injuries detected: severe inflammation, laceration, internal leaks, tissue trauma; self-repair: in progress; inflammation level: HIGH - 66% overall mass, 15% avg temp. increase; overheat risk: HIGH; self repair active prompted by external intervention; ETR: 28 orn -- 37 orn -- 56 orn_  
_***WARNING: partial life support dependency***_  
**_function: transformation cog_ ** _: deactivated; dependency on overall health status: HIGH; ETR: undefined_  
**_function: infrasonic blast:_ ** _deactivated through external intervention; non-functional; non-critical failure; ETR: undefined_  
**_function: groundbride:_ ** _conditionally operational; malfunctioning, configuration and connectivity errors detected; overcharge risk: HIGH; external intervention detected; self-repair: pending; ETR: undefined_  
**_function: datacables connectivity:_ ** _critical; severe damage: 95% amputation; 5% reconstructed by external intervention; self-repair: in progress on minimum; ETR: undefined_  
[...]

 **_***CRITICAL WARNING: external life support: INDISPENSABLE***  
_** **_***PROMPT: external life support: CONNECTED***  
_ ** ******_***PROMPT: self-repair: active at HIGH***_**

He was *** **ALIVE** ***. This realisation flowed through him gently like a soothing balm. Connected to all life status monitoring cables, auxiliary cooling systems, external energon circulation, hardly able to recognize his own limbs, for a moment pure joy overwhelmed him and he felt like *flying*.

 _::External intervention::_ \- he thought and a vague memory of someone’s blue optics returned to him like a flashback of a dream. He onlined his vision slowly. Dim light of the medbay, beeping of life subsistence machinery, overall peace and quiet… it must have been early morning. He still couldn’t place where he was. It did not seem to be Nemesis, it did not look like that. The distant blurry ceiling reminded of an old ran down factory building and the grey bluish light of dawn crept in shading the concrete walls in abstract, diluted and blurry shapes and shadows. It suggested presence of windows, a rare luxury these days. It must have been some human facility on the ground. He did not know this place. But it felt both human and cybertronian, all the apparatus and furniture within his angle of vision were obviously adjusted to serving cyber-mechanical creatures like him but his data connections felt many alien components. Where was he? He could not move. What has actually happened? He vaguely remembered Megatron leaning above him with a strange face. A cold unpleasant shiver ran through his protoflesh as the memory started to wake up reluctantly. He tried to chase it away slowing the already exhausting process and turn the thoughts to something else. He was now taken care of. Alive. He survived. His spark… the injuries… the external intervention status… someone put a lot of effort in putting him back to operation. Back to life from a total, almost permanent blackout.

He tried to revoke the numbing immobility of the locomotor system focusing all resources and attempting to raise his head to see clearer, but he was too weak to move, precisely just as his status reading was telling. Nevertheless his awakening and effort must have changed the readings of the machinery because the beeping became faster. He sighed deeply not knowing what to expect and his malfunctioning ventilation returned a feeling of numb, stifling pain.

The door opened and someone came in. Another shiver of stress ran across his frame as the steps echoed with the steps of Megatron on Nemesis. The stress triggered a small avalanche of internal alerts prompting him back into hibernation but he made an effort to keep conscious by overriding the safety shutdown protocol initiated automatically by his body.

At the same moment he saw a white-red, blue eyed mech coming into his field of vision and then he felt the touch of hands checking methodically all appendages of the life support machinery while the mech was attentively looking at the readings on a monitor above Soundwave’s head.

Then the white-red bot looked straight directly at Soundwave’s visor, smiled in a grim smile and said:

“Welcome back among the living. We’ve met before but we haven’t been properly introduced. I am Ratchet and you are now in the Autobot base. And you must be Soundwave, Megatron’s comms chief”.

Soundwave tried to raise himself again but he still couldn’t. Instead he displayed a glitching message on his visor:

_Affirmative. You: Autobot medic?_

Ratchet nodded his head.

“You don’t need to talk now. All you need is to rest now and let the self-repair and life support do the job. I will see to it so that everything goes right. We will talk later. *Don’t try to move*…” - Ratchet added seeing the slight twitching of Soundwave’s wings and fingers - “your systems are severely damaged. You can only hurt yourself by trying to get up and you won’t succeed anyway.”

 _How did I get here?_ \- a disturbances-filled question ran across the black glass.

“Ask your powerful protector” - Ratchet joked - “she sits around here with you most of the time, you’ll recognise her when you see her… but I doubt if she knows it herself. She found you in the mountains. You will tell us what happened later. Obviously you must be not such bad a person as it seems. You have loads of friends who help you out of trouble”. - Ratchet’s voice was ironic but Soundwave did not pay attention, focusing on the actual message. Words like _she_ and _friend_ resonated across his mind increasing the life-support machinery beeping substantially.

 _Arcee? -_ He displayed over the glitching visor screen.

Ratchet nodded again.

“Yes, her alright. She brought you here totally offlined, almost dead. Primus knows how she found you. Or Optimus knows probably too, he knows close to everything. Hey hey hey stop” - Ratchet waved his both hands seeing another futile effort from Soundwave to get up triggering a wave of alerts allover the medical apparatus - “don’t you move now or I’ll cuff you to the bed! Doctor’s orders! Don’t even try to override this command or I drug you on a cargo-shuttle dose of anesthetics and you won’t online in three weeks!! Easy, she will be here in a few clicks and you’ll do her a favour by recharging now. She worked long hours with me to patch you up, *not* in order to have you dead in no time due to your own stupidity”.

The grumpy doctor was right, however Soundwave was not able to slow down the fast spark pulse too easily. The world went around him as he felt overwhelming sickening nausea while strong energon tension hit his optics and everything flashed red. It took him a longer moment to calm down somewhat and finally his body visibly relaxed turning some of the alerts off. He made another effort to communicate.

 _You fixed me?_ \- he texted and a report from his internal health status started rolling over the main laboratory screen in front of Ratchet.

“Hacking into my lab systems qualifies as *moving*!!! And it is *strictly* forbidden!!! Under *any* circumstances!!!” - Ratchet almost shouted upset but at the same time he was also amazed and impressed, looking with growing interest at his patient’s readings. Then he added in a calmer voice recalling himself not to agitate the patient: “Yes I did fix you, with support of Arcee. It was quite a piece of artwork to put you back together into one bit. You must have pissed someone off a lot as they smashed you pretty much into pieces. For the moment please understand you are grounded for a few weeks at least and…” Ratchet stopped in half sentence seeing how the life subsistence systems calmed down and Soundwave’s spark pulse slowed into a regular soft rhythm of recharge.

The slenderbot passed out after what turned out to be a gigantic effort for the wounded, fevered body and the largely overheated processor. His health status information hang still displayed on the main lab screen and Ratchet checked quickly the medbay mainframe firewall for traces of hacking. There were none. No sign of any connection, no password violation, no security breach, nothing, empty logs. But the file in question existed physically, saved orderly and encoded in a simplest versatile human-machine readable markup language used by the Autobots on the medical machines’ databases borrowed and reprogrammed from their former military owners. The only thing that was wrong with the file was its name. It read:

_“Thank_you_for_saving_my_life_Ratchet.xml”._

Ratchet read the file name twice and sat down heavily on the chair that Bulkhead made for him as part of his artisanal/engineering endeavours some time ago. He looked at the powered down Soundwave on the medberth and then at the screen again and eventually he facepalmed, venting deeply, as a little streak of warmth crossed his spark against all sanity.

“Blasted commbot… no wonder she fell for you, you slagging troublemaker” - he murmured to himself - “you haven’t even woken up properly and you did this already…”

And then he started reading though the file carefully looking into the complex data comparing it to his own current status records of Soundwave. He grunted a little from time to time shaking his head slightly and talking to himself in incomprehensible glyphs, a habit from very long ago when there were still other doctors around whom he could ask for a second opinion.

* * *

  
Arcee showed up at the medbay around one hour later, after finishing her night monitoring shift in the opsroom, which was now her main task under the strict instruction from Optimus not to leave the base alone until the “mushrooming” of Decepticon activity around her was clarified. So she sat grounded and grumpy at the base doing various stationary tasks and longing after a good long, speedy drive. However, with Soundwave in the medbay, the limitation was not so painful since she spent most of her time waiting for him to wake up, helping Ratchet care for the wounds and tending to his unconscious body that ran its life inside and needed attention which Soundwave was not able to provide for himself on his own. The medic observed discreetly how considerate and caring she was with him. She did all the necessary jobs the right way but there was something more to it. She seemed to touch him as if he were made of gold. Or of crystallic energon. Or of Allspark itself. Her optics went a little blurry and dreamy, she was freezing for slight moments as if she were totally somewhere else, becoming oblivious to any reality outside the creature that lay in front of her. Her touches and treatments were fully correct. More than correct… But it gave Ratchet a totally inappropriate shiver just to think of it. There was something much too much about it. Heavy. Loaded. Dense. It forced Ratchet to look away, for the sake of her. Due to the respect he had for her. She probably did not even know about it but she was like an open book. And the story written in it made him *blush*.

It was a few orn since she brought Soundwave to the base. He was stable but so far he did not seem to come online properly. Something flickered on the monitors once or twice but too briefly and insignificantly to qualify as successful coming out of stasis. Reassured by Ratchet that this was normal after such a surgery she tried not to worry but it did not work too well for her. Everytime she approached the medbay her energon flowed a bit faster in hope she would find him awake. So far it did not happen. This time she looked cautiously inside to see Ratchet at his desk drawn into a large file opened in front of him. She approached in silent steps and he almost jumped when she touched his arm standing right behind.

“I told you not to do this, you cyberninja lady, you will give me a spark attack one day”.

“How is it going?” - she asked.

“Good good, he woke up for a moment and gave me a hard time already” - Ratchet answered casually in an absent-minded tone. - “Look, what he uploaded, no idea how” - he scrolled through the contents of Soundwave’s health record not revealing the filename though - “right into my medical database. Structured properly to fit the database structure. Without moving a fingertip. He must have connected through life support monitoring… Now he’s back in recharge, it seems to have exhausted him. We can swap guards now, I need some rest too. Give me a moment so I will just finish with this.” - he showed at his screen. “Very helpful in fact”.

If he looked back at her he would see two large bright optics shining widely open as she turned around to the winged silhouette lying at the medbay berth. He would see how she reached for the offlined hand and closed it in her two servos caressing the limp fingers delicately as she cycled a deep vent of relief.

“You didn’t call for me” - she turned back to Ratchet.

“You wanted me to make him vent his last? Enough that he tried to get up right after he opened his eyes and almost sabotaged his spark. It was just maybe three minutes anyway… well, be happy, it is a good sign, he is strong and certainly better. We need to make sure he is well guarded and will not try any tricks, from what I saw he is a capable fellow even in such a bad shape... You stay with him and I will see with Optimus about the guarding routine, one that he cannot hack into. And he might wake up more often now, he is slowly coming back to operation. And under no circumstances you let him move or do anything at all for now if he goes online!”

“I will manage that” - Arcee replied in a smiling voice. - “I will call you if he wakes up”.

She let Soundwave’s hand free before Ratchet turned around to go out of the medbay. The medic almost stepped out of the surgery but he stopped for a moment hesitantly at the door.

“He was asking about you”. - He said after a moment and then left without turning back again, not looking at Arcee’s face that became shiny and shy again.

Alone at last, she seated herself down in Ratchet’s chair next to Soundwave the same way as she did multiple times since he was staying at their base. She looked back at the medbay window making sure that nobody saw her and then she raised herself again, leaned gently towards him and taking his hand in hers again she placed a little warm kiss on the narrow uncovered part of the neck between the mask and the shoulder. Something a little electric reacted gently from underneath and she felt as his fingers moved just slightly inside her hand in deep recharge. Then she sat in silent contemplation falling slowly in a light meditative state of peace that encompassed her spark-deep.

* * *

  
Third awakening came the next day.

Smokescreen was doing his guard shift with substantial help from Bumblebee, who installed himself next to the medbay door where Smokescreen was stationing. Needless to say, he brought over their console to help biding the time properly. While the other bots attended to some more meaningful duties on patrol and in the opsroom, the two speedsters were happy to spend their time efficiently in guarding the unconscious creature behind their back by playing a good racing game. It was not just *any* racing game. It was Mario Kart.

It consumed them instantly and they were both going lap after lap like crazy. If not for the secrecy of the whole arrangement, they would be jumping in front of the screen, screaming and laughing aloud. However the whole setup was slightly illegal in front of Optimus, who sat completely busy with something in the opsroom and did not realize what kind of diligent guardians they were at the moment. So they were chuckling silently and showing each other some untranslatable but meaningful gestures depending on who took the lead at the moment. Bumblebee was winning most of the time, however Smokescreen was not the one to give up easily or at all, and he also has his brilliant moments. The herd of other online players and computer-generated competitors did not count, they were not any threat for the two bots who were after all sports cars themselves in the alt mode.

The real race was mostly taking place between the two of them who distanced everyone else. Throwing stuff at each other, taking drifts and doing tricks they tried to outsmart one another in multiple ways scoring away and away from the rest in the total count. Bumblebee, as Wario, was slightly in the lead at the moment, while Smokescreen aka Bowser was stepping at his heels most of the time, making Bee’s life more difficult with his precisely targeted projectiles. The score was not yet settled for sure so the atmosphere heated up substantially. The final stretch was coming, and they were driving neck and neck ahead in a tremendous speed, the screen only flickered as they moved pushing the tails from the previous lap aside.

Bumblebee was just about to jump up in victory at the finish line when suddenly the little number in the corner of the screen showed a change in his position: it displayed 2 now in place of 1. Smokescreen’s Bowser was just behind him gasping in surprise with his rank becoming 3 out of the blue. It was not possible at all, they distanced everyone and those others here were only still finishing the previous lap… They crossed the finish line and then Bumblebee realized something more did not match. What was Sonic the Hedgehog doing in Mario Kart? He was not supposed to be there - Bumblebee was more than sure he was not a playable character in this game. But it seemed that Sonic just *won* their game. Smokescreen turned his optics to his friend in a surprised glare.

“Sonic isn’t supposed to be there??”

”Nope” - Bee beeped in no less astonishment.

“Sonic the Hedgehog” - Smokescreen continued - “is not even in the DLC. Nobody can play Sonic in Mario Kart”.

“Nope” - Bee repeated - “or someone modded it. And just won our game”.

“Like who could have won our game? Nobody beats us, even Wheeljack.”

“The guy with the Sonic mod just did…”

As on command they both turned around and looked at their prisoner lying peacefully behind them in the medbay. Then they gazed at each other again. Then back through the surgery door window again. The life monitoring beeped more-less regularly and everything looked calm inside.

“Shouldn’t he be cuffed or something?” - Bumblebee expressed in an uncertain signal.

“Ratchet says he is too weak to move or do anything yet. The only thing that would really work is stasis cuffs and they would block something in him from circulation he said. But he doesn’t have any weapons...” - Smokescreen’s voice was as unsure as Bee’s signalling.

They looked back at the game console screen. Smokescreen switched back to the main menu and launched the characters list. Sonic was not listed.

“Don’t you think he’s a little creepy?” - Bumblebee opened the door and slowly went inside the surgery - “He’s got something of a ghost in him”

“Arcee behaves as if he cast a spell on her” - Smokescreen confirmed following Bee inside.

“And she walks around with Laserbeak all the time, and sits with him almost round the clock.”

“Yep, but she is banned to leave the base anyway, and thanks to her we do not have to sit here most of the time...”

Bee nodded, it was a clear advantage of that situation. At least they were not bothered with the boring guarding task too often.

“He looks strange” - Smokescreen summed up. - “Why isn’t he a normal seeker, like they are, you know, like Starscream or Windblade? With normal wings and everything… you know with a face and all proportions right… Look, his arms extend down to here” - he showed at the calves - “What do you think his face looks like?”

“No idea… What if he is listening to us? Like now...” - the thought was creepy and Bee felt uncomfortable with it. He looked back at the console through the medbay window. - “We shouldn’t wake him up… Maybe let's better play another round?” - he asked.

“Sure” - Smokescreen was not convinced - “I wonder if that Sonic mod guy shows up again”

They looked suspiciously at the motionless figure lying pinned to all the medical equipment appendages, pipes and cablings of auxiliary coolant and energon circulations. The armour carried loads of scars and not yet fully sealed wounds allover it. The mask prevented from assessing his real status, or facial expression, but still he looked quite powered down and helpless.

So they quietly withdrew from the room back to the console and put the game back on.

Sonic *did* show up. But he did not win anymore. He was stepping on their heels, sometimes taking the lead, disturbing them with well aimed projectiles and making the race interesting by various tricks on the road. But finally he almost always came third, giving them an awkward impression of stepping back in the last minute. It did not feel fully right but they did not complain either. Finally, when at some point he disappeared from the game, the track felt strangely empty without the demanding competitor.

None of the two young guards really admitted aloud that more less at the same time the beeping of medical machinery behind the door became substantially slower and more peaceful.

“Sonic left the game” - Bumblebee only beeped, a bit to himself, a bit to Smokescreen. They both continued a moment more with Mario Kart, somehow not really sure anymore if they really wanted to play _Friday The 13th_ as they initially scheduled for later that evening...

* * *

  
It was a strange feeling to have all that time just for himself. Soundwave was onlining more and more often but he rarely gave a sign of life. While Ratchet with his medic’s eye recognised directly when he was awaken or not, the rest was rather confused and they couldn’t really tell what state he was in currently. He was mostly communicating with Ratchet via short text messages, mainly about the health related matters. Slowly, he regained the basic ability to move and could be partially disconnected from machinery but he was far from being able to go anywhere himself or even sit.

Ratchet helped him to change the lying position that started to become unbearable at times, giving him a feeling that all limbs were floating away and all fluids drained to the back parts of the body. It was unpleasant and laborious, and he really missed moving and any type of exercise. At the same time he did not want Ratchet to desensitize him although everything hurt and the self-repair processes were cumbersome, he still preferred to retain as much consciousness as possible. It gave him a strange pleasure just to feel that he existed, that things worked inside him reminding him he was alive. Ratchet grumbled a little, but did not oppose under the condition that Soundwave wouldn’t do anything stupid.

However for the moment Soundwave was far from doing anything at all. He was mainly thinking. A lot and intensely, in-between the longer episodes of recharge, his processor was deeply immersed in his own internal world, in the meantime trying to defragment and put in place all the memory he had stowed away trying desperately to secure it in front of the threat of Shockwave’s cortical psychic patch.

He was putting things in place analysing and computing his own enormous resources, that now were filtered through his new emotional layer that added a tremendous number of variables to his thinking. Most of all he waited for Arcee to take shift. After what he has heard both from Ratchet and the two young gamer friends, she should show up often, but he wasn’t lucky in the beginning. At the same time he felt nervous and kind of shy. She behaved as if he cast a spell on her, they said… Well, all the time he thought it was the other way around. He was under her spell and it managed to turn his whole world upside down.

Now he was in the Autobot base, safe and sound as it seemed, not even truly jailed in fact. He was sort of guarded by them, but in his mind this kind of friendly guarding did not qualify. Instead, he was treated and cared for by a grumpy but good-hearted Autobot medic, and attended to by the one who occupied his mind and dreams for the last weeks. The one that he did not manage even to get to know for real but who became his focus that eventually burned his world down… Things were not black and white anymore. And the place where he ended up was eventually Arcee’s home. Her friends, her reality. No longer a crazy encounter or adventure somewhere in the wild but now he was a fallen enemy stuck in a location and moment of life overloaded with contexts… And he had to deal with it.

Lying and listening to the voices of the base he was contemplating again what kind of strange creatures the Autobots were. In the past he would think they were weak due to their empathy and they were dependent because of the care they displayed for each other. Now however, seeing their harmonious cooperation and supportive relations, step by step, he started understanding that this was what made them survive being just so few, so outnumbered by the herds of Cons.

Keeping together, even if there were tensions and conflicts, they managed to solve things somehow and produce synergy. Their loyalty wasn’t bought or blackmailed, it was intrinsic and natural. They did not need to test each other to trust. The invisible thread that bound them in such a steadfast pack found the closest comparison to his relation with Laserbeak, but without any physical symbiosis. He also spared a warm thought for the scattered mind of Nemesis in this context. It was not the same, but could qualify… So it seemed to be possible also for him, but somehow he never noticed that before.

The Decepticon relations on the warship were a whole different thing. Hungry, unforgiving and competitive, power-struggle-filled and requiring to watch one’s back all the time. If someone or something did not groundbridge him away from there, he would have ended his ancient life miserably and uselessly long orns ago, shredded to scrap and fuel, ironically quite likely fed to his dear Nemesis’ core for recycling. But now he was here, he was alive, and his enemies were taking care of him. Even if he was sort of imprisoned… but in fact it may have been one of the best and strangest things that happened to him in many vorns or perhaps eons of his life. It defied logic giving him a whole new data-load to process.

Multiple times he went through all that happened in the last weeks and pondered upon the great change that happened in his life. There was now no turning back and this was no longer a cliche statement. He felt it with all of his being, both spark and the logic in accord. The fate or whatever existed, has caught him in its hands and the seemingly small decisions he made led to consequences outgrowing his own bravest imagination. Now he was suspended in a temporary situation and he needed to figure out which way to turn, or what were the ways to choose from at all…

The memories from the last moments on Nemesis burdened him with anger, fear and disgust. It was almost physically painful as flashbacks hit him at some most unexpected moments and with the somewhat regained ability to move, his limbs sometimes almost jumped up in unconscious clenches in reminiscence of the putrid, despising experience that haunted him. It happened especially when he was recharging and he could not control the body with his will, which was also one of the reasons he did not feel like being sedated anymore as it did not ease him but brought him nightmares that he could not rationally control in his sleep. It was the more distressing as he was aware that more less the whole Autobot base knew about what he looked like when brought in stasis to the base around a week ago and they certainly speculated around it… around his weakness.

He turned his head to the wall side of the surgery feeling that even the mask did not shield him anymore, and it was so exposing to be helpless and hurt, and of interest to everyone. Like some exhibit in a museum, or a freak in a zoo, always under constant though discrete observation, pinned to the medical equipment in his disability that disturbed him more and more. This did not speed up his willingness to communicate, and he awaited to be seriously interrogated at some point about all that happened, and honestly he did not know what to expect. For the moment however he still looked and felt painful and numb, and besides small interactions, nobody really imposed themselves. Yet.

* * *

He saw Arcee for the first time relatively late after being brought to the base.

Again, it emerged through a dream. It begun both pleasant and unpleasant. In the dream, Arcee was the one to have datacables like his own. He was drifting high under the ceiling, or maybe sitting on a perch like Laserbeak would and he saw himself from above lying on the medbay floor looking unconscious but feeling sensitive to anything that touched him, as if it transmitted between the abandoned body on the floor and his ghostly being hovering above it all. She was kneeling, leaning over him with the tentacles lively spread, doing some tests and checkups on him, examining his body with scanners embedded in the datacable multitool tips. She was thorough, calm and focused, analysing one place after the other, while the tentacles grew longer and longer going around his frame, entangling him bit by bit, until he was almost fully wrapped in their warm cradling embrace, not able to move or react. The normally dreaded immobility did not scare him this time but he fell willingly into the warmth of her dream tentacles allowing himself to follow whatever she thought to do with him… Then suddenly she raised her head and looked at him straight in the eyes with a heated strange glare of … a pair of purple-crimson eyes. But they weren’t her eyes… they were the lusty optics of Megatron. Megatron who boasted about spying behind his door in the middle of his dreams on Nemesis. Megatron who tied him up and tore his flesh, and...

Soundwave onlined suddenly and abruptly, panting loud and instinctively clenching all body and trying to sit up, which he could not really do properly yet.

“Hey” - a soft and friendly voice reached him even before he onlined his optics - “It’s only me, Arcee, I am sorry I have scared you… It’s all right” - she put her hand delicately on his shoulder for a moment. - “I need to do daily maintenance for you before you manage to do it yourself, and the wounds are still leaking”.

He realised that she was holding meager remains of one of his datacables adjusting something in an artificial flexi-support structure that was serving as stitches and stabilising the delicate limb. It hurt somewhat but then her hand hold was also pleasant. He slowly relaxed after the sudden jump of the system pressure, and in turn he felt delightful heat spreading up from the place where she was touching him. It was hard to defy and he just hoped nothing of his body reactions showed, now or while he was powered down dreaming the dream, otherwise that would be really a disastrous beginning of contact with the most friendly creature in the base.

“Ratchet fixed it as he could” - she added in a professional tone delicately stroking the tentacle tip, smiling a sunny smile, totally not realizing what effect it had on him. He forced himself to bring the spark rate down and hide the sudden surge in the cooling systems’ activity.

~/Hey Arcee/~ he let it flow through the bond link ~/Ratchet did a tremendous job/~ and then he smiled to her an invisible smile ~/I owe you… my life it seems. And I am most glad to see you again. I would never have guessed these would be the circumstances though/~

She smiled even wider looking at him with bright eyes as she finished the job and locked the tentacle gently back to its casing.

~/These “things” you were dealing with back on Nemesis, I assume they went sideways?/~ she asked. A moment of silence between them followed as he did not answer. Then he only nodded slightly as she continued ~/You owe loads to Laserbeak, he caught your signal and brought me there. I found you at the entrance to our cave. And it was for sure none of us who bridged you there… So you have one more saviour to thank/~

She silenced and sat down next to him looking at him from the medics’ chair.

~/Thanks Primus you’re alive. It was really close.../~ she added ~/We did not even have a chance to talk properly and now you’re here… I’m sorry that I have to be messing with your spare parts/~ she smiled again ~/It’s a dirty job and someone’s gotta do it/~

He nodded again at her and let his warm EM field float a little with reassurance, almost as if he would say: _Do whatever you want with me_ , _I’ll bear everything._

So she did. She continued whatever she used to do when he was still unconscious before, cleaning up wounds explaining him step by step what she was doing. Then after some rest she tried to exercise slowly his stiff hydraulics stagnating from immobility, “talking” to him about it and not asking any more questions that were queueing in her head. He tried to interact and help her in the exercises, at the same time following every movement of her hands with his sensory arrays, painting the patterns of her touch in his deepest memory banks next to her smell and the multiple pictures of her face expressions. Her hands were precise, caring and confident. Sometimes, though, he felt how they trembled a little or how she became thoughtful and more focused, stopping them in half a movement somewhere on his body for slightly longer than necessary and how instantly something lightly electric started sparking between their touching surfaces. Her eyes wandered then for a moment towards his face hidden behind the mask and he almost felt her vision touching his skin underneath. In such moments electricity charge of the air in the room was rising to a level that made Laserbeak sneak out to leave them alone. Soundwave kept holding on to the rhythm of his spark that wanted to escape his chest by either slowing down or speeding up uncontrollably. He focused on the place of the touch and the intensity was almost paralyzing the both of them. He cherished these short moments of undisciplined closeness that happened between the usual friendliness of the routine they developed in the few days since he became conscious enough to understand and follow her shift pattern, in order to make sure he was online anytime she came.

Usually she smiled to him as she joked and told him stories in the freeflow communication between their minds. She was telling him of human species that she learned to know much better than he ever had a chance, anecdotes from life in the base, about Laserbeak and how he arrived scaring a hell out of everybody and then made himself at home in almost no time. She told him about the beauty of Earth nature, the grounder animals and the flyer birds, and joys of speeding on an empty highway. She recounted how they fitted and renovated the old factory where they stayed, how Bulkhead invented ingenious things out of nothing they had in the beginning, how Ratchet built the medical machinery from human computers and some miserable supplies and components from their crashed spaceship, and how Optimus was keeping the hope alive when everybody went desperate in the moments of darkness. She silenced sometimes avoiding deeply critical remarks against the Cons, but he could see how the energon-searching competition between the two fractions on Earth and the total cut off from the homeland cast a long shadow over the seemingly happy though painfully temporary life of the little team. He did not even try to equal her in quantity of her stories, but he explained her a little of life on Nemesis and about KnockOut and Starscream fighting all the time, Starscream’s clones that could be hilarious, and the sad boring life of Vehicons. He omitted the death of Dreadwing who once in fact saved Optimus’ life, he did not speak of the sad fate of Nemesis herself stuck in the paralysed body, he did not mention the awkward rationality of Shockwave, so similar to himself in many respects.

Speaking just a few words at all, he ran out of topics not because he had nothing to say, but because anything he said was missing colour, was sad and grey, full of power struggles and fights and ambitions of others, and was messed up in perception through his very strange change... And he was not really sure what to think of everything himself. Megatron and latest events were not something he was ready to talk about, he almost denied it in front of himself. And light conversation was not his domain, he just couldn’t, wasn’t made for it, and after some futile attempts he just stopped. He kept to what he could do best, *listen*.

He followed her communication finding pleasure in the stream of information she was sharing. He scanned her field gently as it reflected the mood of the story she was telling. Interacting with her, he often did not even use any word-like structures, he relayed just notions and meanings meandering in the space between them, similar as he did with Laserbeak. She understood, or maybe felt it, as her field responded accordingly.

Looking at her in all the richness of her expression he was wondering how would that be to just get rid of the limitation of the mask, let her see his reactions, what his face showed, even if he might not be able to control it fully as it was hidden for so long from the world. He remembered himself from in front of the makeshift mirror on Nemesis, and realised that he did not even fully know how he reacted, what his face did when he felt things, what it looked like, what it could reveal... Wasn’t she feeling naked because he could watch each expression of her lips, eyes, slightest movements and reshaping of the complex machinery of metal elements of her cheeks that were responsive and revealing thoughts and feelings…? He felt very tempted, but the medbay atmosphere and the constant presence of others stopped him from taking the mask off. They were almost never really alone. Others were close by outside and Ratchet was a regular guest in his own surgery. The door were partly transparent and medbay had something that could be seen as a window towards the base hall. Well, so much for intimacy. So their contact was almost only virtual through the semi-verbal communication that was incomprehensible for others if they at all realised it existed.

Once though, when he mentioned flying, an amazed wishful look of her eyes almost enchanted him. It would be diminishing just to say she was interested - it was all over her EM field. Flying! She was excited and wanted to know all about it, especially how it felt. He noted it down deeply and precisely for future reference and even became a bit talkative for a moment relaying her images and records from what was visible from above, all the space and feeling of freedom, cutting through the air, and the wind and rain on his wings… he found something that was worthy, that was bright and that for once flowed from him for real, unhindered and wanted to be shared. She was captivated, she started asking millions of questions wanting to know more, she hang on to every bit of his transfers one by one imaging the beauty of flight. Finally, he withdrew to his silence again relying only visual and sensory data, and he continued watching her shining and consumed by his transmissions. He let the delicate heat rise again in him and in his field, embracing her inside it. Then he slowly raised his wing and reached out for her hand closing his fingers over hers. Her optics unblurred from the visions of the files he sent her, they focused on him totally in an instant and sent him the richest and warmest of all looks. She returned the hold and a strong transfer flushed through their hands for a moment: dense, intense, meaningful, hot and boiling like volcano lava, filled with tremendous desire, longing and missing. The surface plating of their fingers and palms merged together for a moment and the world spinned. Laserbeak discreetly disappeared under the bed. She did not need any videos and pictures anymore. She just held his hand and was flying inside herself drinking excessively of his heat wave. It could just not end with *nothing*, Primus, please...

Of all the time they spent together keeping their distance, this was a hell of a moment for Ratchet to come in and make some useless comments that made their hands loosen the grip quickly and force the reality to kick in again.

* * *

  
A few more days passed and routines of life with Soundwave at the medbay normalised, somehow digesting the foreign component into the lifestream of the base.

Still he spent his time lying, often powered down in the medbay, under a discrete watch from the others, who slowly got used to his silent presence. But the breaking point was when he started to communicate with more than Ratchet and Arcee. He did it in his special ways through his text messages, file transfers and through a digital commlink that allowed him to “speak” in somewhat more acceptable way, without really using any voice but something close to, that formed words and sentences composed of normal grammar.

He started to be able to move, with big difficulty though, but after excessive exercise he tried standing on his own legs, always with someone’s, mainly Ratchet’s or Arcee’s, assistance though. He did not make more than two, three steps because of the malfunctioning hydraulics that did not keep the necessary pressure yet as well as lack of ability to keep proper balance. His locomotor system let go without warning and the weak protoflesh was not able to keep the necessary components in place to move normally. Any more sudden movement put the delicate tissues at risk of tearing apart again, so care and attention were indispensible to let everything seal properly first.

A couple of times Soundwave managed to play a game or two with the young mecha, who imported the game console to the medbay almost officially for that reason. Ratchet shook his head in silent consideration of disapproval watching as the three of them were playing to bide the time. Optimus did not know how to comment on that so he did not. But he showed up more and more in the picture and a couple of times he took a few moments to “chat” with their prisoner asking him simple but inquisitive questions, to which Soundwave had simple and compact answers.

“Do you know where you are and why?”

A nod.

“What happened to you?”

Text message: _Accusation of treason. Interrogation._

“Who accused you and why?”

Silence.

“What did really happen?”

Visual message: a picture hacked from the Autobot hall monitoring showing Arcee carrying bleeding Soundwave.

“And before that?”

Silence. After a longer moment: _Violence._

“Why?”

Silence.

“How can we be sure we can trust you?”

Text message: _Your choice. Trust: subjective feeling. Treason: not my thing._

“Do you know locations of Decepticon energon mines?”

Text message: _You saved me. I will not let you be hungry if only in my powers._

“What are Megatron’s plans?”

Text message: _I do not maintain contact._

“Do you know locations of remaining relics?”

Text message: _Relics: weapons of war. Need-to-know: inconclusive._

“Can you generate cortical psychic patch?”

Text message: _No_

“But you can generate various types of direct connections…”

Text message: _Define: [various types]_

“Mind reading types…”

Text message: _I don’t hack into living creatures. Too intimate._

Optimus raised his optic ridge and after a moment of consideration he dropped the topic for the time being.

“How do you assess your current affiliation?”

Silence. After a while: _Affiliation: obsolete._

“What do you intend to do next?”

Silence. After a long while: _I need to think over a lot._

“Arcee seems to care about you a lot, you’d better be honest with her and not hurt her. If you play with her feelings I will not let you off...”

Tense silence, making Optimus somewhat embarrassed to have said that. Reply after a longer while: _You have no idea how much I care._

These discussions were extremely frustrating for Optimus, who had a feeling that he was finding out nothing either to support the potential trust or to reject it. Everything was left to his decision. Soundwave did not try to convince him, or request anything. His replies seemed straight and extremely honest however also evasive and not revealing anything that Optimus would not know already. It was also clear that Soundwave understood the lack of trust and was leaving it always an open choice for the Autobots to determine what they wanted to think about him.

He was never defending himself in his statements, or trying to prove anything. It came across as arrogant but at the same time there was some strange recognition for Autobots’ efforts and their support to him despite the dry tone of the minimalistic communication. The clear logic of the replies was even more frustrating as it revealed to Optimus his own ways of thinking and Soundwave’s awareness thereof.

He was also silent about both the torture he endured as well as Decepticons and their secrets, at the same time giving Optimus a semi-rational impression that he might be as silent about Autobots and their secrets too in case the push come to shove. So far the presence of Soundwave did not bring any problems to the base and its inhabitants, and it was a fact that, perhaps, spoke more than any of the slenderbot’s replies to his questions. But there was always a question mark in the air.

One answer was however stripped of the seemingly unemotional distance and sophistry that otherwise frustrated Optimus so deeply: _You have no idea how much I care._

In his spark Optimus knew it was the truth. Unlike in all other cases, even without hearing Soundwave’s voice, feeling his EM field or seeing his face, Optimus understood directly that he hurt Soundwave by the sole suggestion of remote possibility of wrongdoing towards Arcee. And that the answer was fierce, deep and hot blooded in the scale of emotional expression of their prisoner. It was little to hang on to, but he placed his trust in this with all his might - however illogical and irrational it might have been. He believed Soundwave.

* * *

  
Paradoxically, Smokescreen, Bulkhead and Bumblebee had less trouble in communication. Maybe due to their simpler and less strained approach it was easier for them to build some basic relation to Soundwave. They were not getting that much into the details of politics, they were more curious and naively less suspicious after a longer time of peace and no trouble caused by the silent visitor. The video games helped too. It was the first thing that broke the ice somehow. It came about naturally and soon it became a part of the routine which allowed to socialise without excessive communication, being somewhat a comfortable solution. Arcee joined in often when she had time and did not do the monitoring duties in the opsroom, which were more engaging for her than the others as she was a more senior member of the team.

Playing was fun, it helped not to think and it did not demand physical effort for the communications bot who did not need any controllers to steer the game, being able to connect virtually through any network whenever and however he wanted. It was slightly an issue though that he was always somewhat faster, more accurate, and more strategic than the rest, but they could bear with it, especially that he did not show it too much, and also got tired more easily. In the end some sort of equilibrium prevailed. Secretly they kept peering at him from the corners of their eyes wondering about many things that they found odd about him.

Smokescreen was curious in particular. At some point he cracked under the pressure of his own inquisitive nature and asked a question that bothered all the friends deeply ever since Soundwave appeared in their base.

“Sonic, why don’t you speak?” - he shot just blindly one day, meeting anxious warning gazes from the other two friends: both because he referred to the infamous Sonic - Mario Kart game as well as because he was so straightforward in talking about something they all perceived as a total taboo, same as it would be to ask if he had a face and what it looked like. No matter how calm and restrained Soundwave was, they were subconsciously a bit afraid of him after all, and did not feel like annoying him for any reason. Despite his slow recovery and visible difficulties in normal motoric operation, he still made an impression of unpredictability that could be found in a recharging wild animal, a beast that could wake up suddenly and swallow everybody in one bite with no effort. And they knew already that without moving a fingertip he could operate any piece of electronic equipment that was connected to some sort of a network. That was scary too. So playing games was one thing, asking questions was another.

On top, Smokescreen chose his moment when Arcee was not present. Normally they all perceived her as their own personal lion-tamer, creating an invisible barrier against the wild side, making him much more “normal” in their eyes, than when he was just alone. Maybe it was because with her around the level of his, the usually almost totally shielded EM field, increased somewhat and so the distance decreased…

But the question was already asked and now three pairs of blue curious and fearful optics were gaping at him with a set of question marks floating about.

The answer was as simple as not supportive. Contrary to its contents it displayed in the form of a text message.

_I do._

Smokescreen opened his mouth to ask another question when Bumblebee kicked him painfully in the ankle to shut up. So he closed his mouth a little too fast releasing a metallic screech biting his lip at the same time. But for Soundwave the second question was practically asked already. He considered the whole situation somewhat hilarious and smiled widely behind the mask.

 _~”I can generate voice, but I do it very rarely”~_ he opened a private channel to the three bots relaying the message in a more digestible coding that did not need to be read but could be more easily understood. _~”I do not need to do it though. I do not like to.”~_

Bumblebee, whose voice box was broken and who could not speak in a normal manner either, since under the current war conditions it was beyond repair and proper components or replacements were bordering with a dream, glared now at him with awe and a real lack of understanding. He would give half a world to regain his real voice instead of being constantly forced to use sound-coding and commlink transmissions instead. Soundwave must have noticed his consternation as he continued looking at the yellow bot in particular.

_~”Speaking did not exist when I was forged. We communicated in different ways, which are now considered obsolete or extinct, but I still find them more useful. Sound had a different purpose. Sound was a weapon. Nowadays speaking is largely abused and deprives things of substance”~_

He looked at their still non-understanding eyes and almost sighed. That was enough much said for the moment.

Even Laserbeak landed down from below the ceiling to see what kind of a strange situation made his carrier to do such an outrageous thing as a one minute commlink speech.

 _~”I only speak when it matters”~_ he added, and there he stopped. However, together with the initial smile, he released more freely a warm bit of his usually tightly kept EM field, and now he let it go even more, allowing them to feel it. It meant more less: _It’s alright but enough for the moment, maybe I’ll tell you more later, but give me some space now, why don’t we play Mario Kart instead?_

And as if he understood the intention, Smokescreen smiled widely and said:

“No idea how you do it... Still, I hope we can hear you one day” - and then he glanced at the console changing the topic - “Soundwave, it was you who played Sonic in Mario Kart the other day, wasn’t it?”

Soundwave nodded slowly. And smiled again. His EM field flickered a little invisibly and an atmosphere of relief filled the room. Smokescreen clicked on the console and Mario Kart appeared on the screen. - “Show us what you’ve got then” - he laughed and he launched the game, curiously watching as Soundwave loaded his modded character out of nowhere.

Since a good moment Arcee had been standing silently back at the opsroom door. Watching the scene from the distance, she was feeling softly on the verges of Soundwave’s EM field that was, for the first time since she met him, open so much in the presence of anyone else than herself. She was smiling too and her spark was shining invisibly bright blending with the sunlight that cast its warm rays on the floor through a dirty roof-window of the factory.


	12. Let the Light in

It was dark, with some silver lining from moonlight drawing checkered patterns on the floor of her room, just the same as the first night when Laserbeak showed up. For the first time it was Soundwave who, against Ratchet’s assessment as to the current state of his motoric capabilities, visited her. He himself knew that he was stronger than they assessed him, but this was far from any strength required for doing anything substantial. So he progressed in slow steps along the corridor wall until he reached her half-open door. He did not have to know the base to find it, he sensed her every day when he was lying in the medbay, he was able to locate her spark without any difficulty within the small distances inside the base. Her EM field pulsed her own rhythm, she smelled her own sweet smell, he knew the silent hum of her ventilation systems, his animalistic senses followed her anywhere she went in the base.

So now he stood in the shadow of the corridor and looked at her through the open door. She was finishing some late night reading of a human book, lying down on her belly and, in the darkness lit only by the light of her own optics, she was scanning the local writing script on paper pages which she turned with utmost precision not to tear them with her much too big and rough metal fingers. Page by page, the paper rustled quietly when she leafed through. Focus painted on her face as she imagined the scenes and tried to relate to the content with her own “alien” experience. Concentrated on the fictitious reality imagined by organics of this world, she did not notice him lurking it the shadow.

He stood there for a longer moment contemplating her, while she was unaware of his presence and immersed in the world she was reading about. He felt gently on the verges her EM field that flickered invisibly and beautifully around her. It was one of those moments which he did not recognise in the past and that only recently he realized to have a great flavour, worthy to record and remember.

She shook her head at something invisible evidently amazed as the light of her optics intensified for a blink and her EM field heaved with emotion awoken by something which felt to him, from the distance, as someone else’s memory - convincing and moving. Eventually she sighed deeply and closed the back cover. He was almost ready to withdraw when she lay her head down on the berth. That was when she saw him.

~/Soundwave, you can walk!/~ she exclaimed amazed when a streak of blue light of her optics glimmered on his frame. And then she smiled a wide sunny smile.

~/Ratchet fell into recharge. I allowed myself a little stroll. The door was open.../~

With visible effort he took one more step to move forward towards her. She jumped up and leaped over to support him. She led him these few remaining steps towards her berth, helping him down to a comfortable half sitting half lying position. With extreme care she placed some pillows and a blanket around so that he wouldn’t need to support himself otherwise. These things were Earthly things, they didn’t use them back on Cybertron, but here she got used to the alien comforts required by the Earthlings’ soft protein-based organic bodies and they well served the current purpose. And they were soft. Softness seemed now needed and in place.

He did not oppose. He also waited patiently, as she brought two small energon cubes from the storage room, and she dropped a small note to the sleeping Ratchet on her way not to give him a spark attack over Soundwave’s sudden disappearance from his medical semi-confinement in case he woke up. Finally she stopped running around, closed the door behind her and sat down in the legs of the berth.

They were alone. Perhaps for the first time really alone since he had been staying at the base. Laserbeak disappeared somewhere. Silence filled the room. She felt slight nervosity lurking around in her systems, and a bit of embarrassment over the care she just displayed. She asked rhetorically to break the silence:

~/How do you feel?/~

He kept looking at her and a feeling, something like a warm smile, filled the room radiating from his EM field. Without answering the question he asked:

~/You were… reading? It’s a human text.../~

~/Yes… it is a book. A story. About a man who was innocently accused and perished for things he had not done/~ she started.

~/It gave you… emotion/~

~/Yes… books do that/~ she admitted.

~/Is it real?/~

~/The story? No… But it is like real, like sharing a memory… you can imagine and feel it. You have to use empathy…/~

~/To understand what they feel?/~

~/Yes… More less. They are a lot like us.../~ she said looking at him.

~/I was not “like us” for long until recently. I mean - to have emotions. I think… I’m only learning it… now./~

She sort of realized this long before she met him, there were rumors, stories, but nobody knew for sure, and it was so strange to see him confirming this with such openness.

~/How is it… not to feel?/~

~/Simple. Effective. Efficient. Analytical. Logical. Rational. Calm. Clear. Controlled. No conscience. No fear. No distractions. No attachment. No missing. No regrets./~ he weighed each word ~/It is absolutely *empty*/~

Silence felt heavy.

~/It sounds a bit like you enjoyed it.../~ she constated a bit distraught.

~/It sounds like that. And so I thought. In the beginning when the feelings started coming back it freaked me out. I was scared and angry I would totally lose control over my life. An I sort of did./~ he said honestly. ~/Everything annoyed me, I was furious half of the time, I also started wanting things, missing... , regretting and opposing to things. Judging others… and fearing… most of all myself. It was like drowning or constant fighting, so much effort to control and contain it. It was insane. It is still hard.../~

~/But how did you erase them? Don’t we all have feelings naturally? You can’t just delete them from yourself! It is in our core programming, it is in the spark.../~

~/Oh yes, you can delete it. Mostly. There are ways.../~ he silenced for a bit. ~/I could. I did. But something changed down in the caves. It reversed./~

She looked at him with wide, fascinated optics. She blurrily remembered from most previous brief encounters that he was never really engaged, and he was effective for sure, very calm and deadly too… But also she felt that all she experienced from him since the moment he saved her from the rock rumble in the organicon caves had *everything* to do with emotions, even if it externally seemed not to. It was so fiercely emotional, she could hardly find herself across that, especially being hot-tempered herself. It was like they were standing on a pack of burning explosives ready to go off at any moment.

~/It took me some time to understand and not to go insane/~ he continued ~/It is like if you saw everything black and white before and suddenly you could see colour and it is not the same world anymore/~

~/How did you tell good from bad?/~

~/I did not. I looked at what was logical. I calculated. But it seems I did not have all necessary data, I realize that now. There was a gap. What happened… what Megatron did to me recently… did not stem out of any rational calculations./~

She looked at him a bit scared, not sure what to say.

~/I was not always like that/~ he continued ~/Eons ago I knew what that meant to feel. I was forged to see, hear, record and understand, but I wasted it hiding from the pain and responsibility it entailed/~ He silenced. But then he transmitted a streak of warmth and a smile to her. ~/I am learning it back again now. From you in the first place, from my eldest memories, from your friends like Ratchet or Smokescreen, from Laserbeak and even from Megatron whom I’m trying to understand. I may learn from your books.../~

They looked at the book at her table. It read on the cover:

“ _Stephen King - The Green Mile_ ”.

~/It’s Miko’s/~ she explained ~/I am sure you can read it, I mean, you can crack anything, can’t you… and she would have nothing against as long as you don’t tear the pages or spill energon on it/~ she smiled looking at him curiously.

~/I think I would *enjoy* to try/~

He made her wonder more and more. Sitting there at the head of her bed, calm and contained as usual, he was at the same time radiating warmth that she inhaled with her every receptor. Leaning against a pillow, tucked in her blanket - the most human thing she could imagine, done with her own hands, he looked at her from behind the visor that did not seem to her such an obstacle to contact anymore. She learned to sense his field and body language… Or had he only just *acquired* the field together with the regained empathy? Slim and slender, dark coloured, long winged he was still all the same creepy motionless minimalist Soundwave she saw many times before, but it felt different now. He looked sort of smaller and less scary than seen from a distance and in her older memories. Yes of course, now she could tell she had seen him inside out, she did have him unconscious and tormented in front of her at the operation table, she was holding his armour open when Ratchet did the complicated spark-filling surgery… That was him, the same Soundwave all the way, now speaking to her in this telepathic way of his about having his feelings deleted…

She realized that if someone entered the room, same as in the medbay he would just see them sitting silently doing nothing for all that time. It must have been looking freakishly…

Well, yes, he was different from anyone she had ever known. That was for certain. And she was learning him step by step.

She collected herself a little to ask another question that has formulated in her mind.

~/Is it… because of me… because of your change that Megatron hurt you?/~ She looked down a bit nervously. ~/I meant because of all the feelings and.../~ she staggered a little in the thought realizing the assumption may well be totally false, but it could not leave her indifferent one way or the other.

~/It’s not your fault, Arcee./~

He reached out his long wing to her servo that was now nibbling nervously at the edge of the blanket. He wrapped his fingers around her hand and held it gently easing her twitching, compulsive movement. With this little and focused touch she suddenly realized all her condensed tension and then she felt it diluting as if he just released it into the silence around them. She looked up at him feeling the unexpected relief flowing through her like a deep breath.

~/You only gave me what is good. Megatron had a lot of… anger and fear in him. He did not bear to have me out of control and it endangered him. He understood my change… maybe better than I did myself/~ …he wasn’t saying half of the truth, but his field waved with dense meaning.

~/He did not manage to kill our bond/~ Soundwave’s voice sounded softly in her head making her feel something blooming inside her, like a wave of emotion, a shiver between her spark and her fingers that seemed to be transforming on their own, just a little, on the surface, twinkling slightly, reacting to his touch.

~/No he didn’t/~ she admitted without breaking the silence around them. This was the truth and the way they communicated was the crown proof. The silence around them was soft and warm and so untouched, they could hear night birds singing outside, Laserbeak nestling somewhere under the ceiling in the living room, Ratchet ventilating heavily in recharge at the medbay desk, Optimus three doors away obviously working again on something in the middle of the night... They could hear everything, the cars from the highway in the distance, maybe Smokescreen somewhere among them on his night patrol. The room was small and cozy, but the darkness kept it interlinked with the world reuniting its space with all the infinite darkness around, as far as hearing could reach - as far as the sound waves of the world outside could uncover.

And the feeling of meanings flowing just between them without being heard was so… intimate. She held his hand stronger. It calmed her down and brought her balance.

He watched her sitting there at the end of the bed, with her knees drawn up under her chin, picking at this fingers, now in total silence. Thinking about something intensely she was streaking along the verges of his palm side, stroking the joints delicately with her fingertips, one by one. He closed his optics for a moment and focused on the softness of her touch and the little streaks of pleasure that it left behind. It was another one of those things he wished he could keep with him forever… The sweetest weakness…

Then she took up the thought she must have weighed in her concentration.

~/Will you.../~ she broke off in the middle of her sentence but the glyphs of the meaning hang across their EM fields. ~/Will you stay?/~ she eventually asked.

The lightness of the moment burst like a bubble. What could he answer? Did he have a plan? What was wise? What was right? The black and white world imposed itself on him pushing back the colour. He loosened the grip slightly.

~/I am a fugitive now, Arcee/~ he started slowly ~/A prisoner at your home, a traitor to my former allies, and a guilty victim of my own past loyalties. I am probably a war criminal too… What’s done is done, I can’t change it. I am lost and not sure who I am and should be. I have nowhere to go but I will be chased down by those who want to know what I know or take revenge and destroy me and who will put in danger anyone whom I care about/~

He looked at her from behind the mask as her EM field shifted between conflicting emotions. He felt as her spark faded for a moment and he heard her ventilation become a little unstable and twitching as she understood the true meaning of this answer. Her hand that was now clutching almost violently at his fingers almost brought him pain.

~/You need to heal before you decide anything.../~ she replied finally in a tense transmission. ~/But the truth is, it is nothing new. These days we are all fugitives. We are… hiding in our holes, chased by others who try to kill and outrun us obsessed by power and ideals. Yet we are survivors.../~ she continued looking down at their hands braided together. ~/You could join us, Optimus and the others will understand and forgive, there is no High Council anymore to convict you… Just fugitives scattered around in a fight for scarce resources. And now you regained your judgement, I *know* you have changed, and so the others are getting to realize that. You could stay here.../~

~/Arcee, it is not that simple, how can I stay when I *was* part of the war so far, on the opposite side whom I supported for eons and even partially defined this useless war which I do not wish now to continue, at least before I fully understand who I really am.../~

As much as she wanted to avoid his ways of thinking, she felt well that now that he was trying to take his responsibility it pushed them away from each other making simple things way too complex for her to manage. It disturbed the bliss of having him here and made her feel unimportant, and angry too.

~/You are/~ she hissed slowly right out of her spark, not fully controlling her sudden frustration ~/the one whom the Great Lord Megatron used for years with your permission or not, and when you became independent he put you behind bars, and he ...abused you… cut you open and mutilated you enjoying your suffering and measuring how much more you could bear in your glorious silence, and who finally almost ripped your spark out… Because he could not stand you becoming a person in place of his superefficient *machine* that you were before.../~

Oh, that hurt, as she blasted him with her daring anger. Megatron’s lustful voice sounded in his head “... _my sweet mute servant monster on a leash… this is what you are_ ” and he almost felt again the claws piercing deep into the intimate tissues, a much too heavy weight of Megatron’s body over his hips and thighs pressing him down with a painful devastating strength, trying to break in, to hack in, into where he never should, the way he never had right to, no-one ever should... He backed out for a second closing himself inside in defense against that haunting feeling. She was mostly right, but Soundwave knew there was more to what guided the Decepticon leader. It made him feel *used* for all that time he thought he was so smart and efficient, now so ashamed of it and so cheated, it made him feel like a *fool*...

And not the physical rape or torture were worst although it made his body freeze and cramp at the sole memory, but the fact how much he was *blind* thinking he had been wise, and how his endless loyalty did not matter a single bit. He *had* been a fool and he could not bare it. Mute servant on a leash, was he really just that? A well manipulated slave? Most trustworthy but locked in a perfectly structured cage he put himself in *willingly*. And a *sweet* one at that? He shivered badly, he never ever thought of himself this way, to be someone’s  *thing*, a mere object, a tool, a toy, *lovely* to look at and… free to use. It made him sick and he hated himself.

He looked up and met her glossy optics staring at him frightened.

~/I have brought you here, we have patched you up and there is always a solution/~ she continued much softer alerted by her own sudden outburst and seeing how he withdrew into himself blocking all his field into nothingness ~/Please don’t tell me that *this*/~ she raised their braided hands up strengthening the loosened grip ~/is just a glitch?/~ she looked at him shyly with almost begging eyes and after some quiet hesitation she asked finally ~/What is it that you really *want*?/~ her message and the simultaneous warmth of her hand echoed through him and in the messy blend of their fields. _What was that he really wanted…?_

In a blink of an eye his processor ran again through all the paths of the future he could identify making a complex calculation adding all known variables to the equation. Black scenarios washed across the sea of darkness, tumbling one after another as stones in a mud avalanche sliding down the probability curves, drowning any green and yellow sparks of good moments brought up by the calculus. He reloaded the data and ran it anew with even more unknowns and an unexplored dark blue void filled the algorithms and equations.

Then he just scrapped it all to the bin.

The persistent *hope*, that made him survive all the the dark moments kicked in disturbing the mathematics. He knew that… and agreed to it.

He pulled himself a little up on the bed. Disregarding the discomfort he moved closer seating himself now next to her. She looked at him with strangely lit, glossy optics and he saw how she was mixed up.

He was not used to talking as much as he did this night, and he highly disregarded any babbling whatsoever, usually expressing only what needed to be expressed and nothing more. Eventually he was not even able to figure out saying something moderate, cheering up but meaningless or in-between, just light and comforting… And it would just not be him anyway. Even if he was learning new ways now, he was what he was, the ill-socialised, silent, straight to the point and quite painfully blunt one in the final effect. He was someone who made a statement or left without a word. Now he used so many words to what effect eventually? To hear some painful truths in return?

His mind was accustomed to function in binary options, numerically expressed scales of values and probabilities between everything and nothing. This pertained to things that existed in a measurable way and could be structured and put into equations. Wanting things was not really on the scale. But still he had this notion somewhere in the grey zone… He did want things but never thought about it in the way that just opened in front of him. Now she asked him to decide what he wanted. So what was that he really *wanted*? Not predicted, calculated, concluded, analysed. But *wanted*. He ran another quick search within his most archaic programming, one that he failed to delete despite multiple efforts, sunken in his memory chips and condensed in his core crystal structures. And he found the same thing he found already before, just as illogical and abstract as the idea of wanting something individually for himself.

He let the mathematics go and scanned this little warm and soft spot he kept finding inside himself whenever he tried to analyse what happened to him since they met down in the mine. He hesitated for the next moment to find the most appropriate expression. And there it was… It didn’t even structurally fit as an answer to the question. But its content, the message it conveyed… it was *that* what he wanted. It had it all inside. And it had gravity. One that stood against all the babble on the future paths or probabilities... It was also a question without a question mark. With only two possible consequences: everything or nothing. Binary.

He cycled a deep vent of air and with one decision he gave up all unnecessary explanations.

_“ I love you Arcee ”_

He said it out loud across the darkness, the words felt dense in the silence, making it a real sound as if he checked that not only their bond but the whole world around them would bear it.

It did bear it. And the world kept turning.

But time stopped for her instead. In the middle of an air vent her systems halted for a nano-second. The subjectivity bent her time strings and everything went to freeze and only then to slow motion. She felt her spark pulse taking enormously long just following as slow a pulse of his spark in the absolute, infinite, radiating silence and space that spread now around them encasing them in a crystal bubble. Nothing around mattered, too far and unreachable.

She did not know what to expect eventually when she asked her question. What she got was an ultimate declaration that beat her off the feet. Deep water in which she was not sure if she was able to swim. Or… was it a wish come true? What did she think when she dreamt all those sleepless nights? Why did her excited spark almost jump out of its casing when Laserbeak first showed up, even if it meant only further trouble…?

His spark was pulsing just nearby and the energon was flowing, she almost felt how his self-repair was working laboriously deep in the smallest nano-structures of his protoflesh curing the wounds in a lengthy but continuous process, while the bluish glow spread gently around them. Her ventilation was humming and the sounds from outside filled the infinite space shrinking it again to measurable extents. The night was back in place - velvet dark, dense and warm. It was just her balance… that was gone.

She faltered raising her head towards him. He caught her with an embrace of his wing keeping her in place next to him. Feeling speechless and dizzy she curled up under his wing pressing her face to his shoulder and holding onto him carefully. He stroke her lightly on the cheek hugging her closer. Then she heard a very silent rustle of the mask’s bearings, followed by a gentle kiss on her forehead. A kiss that could not be confused with anything else she ever felt or experienced. Thin threads of electricity ran in gentlest of waves through her plating and deep down inside her core, overruling softly her defense protocols.

In the midst of darkness he delicately disentangled her hand from the tight hold and raised it to his scarred chest, right about where the spark was hidden. He pressed her fingers flat over the still very painful wound. Nanotransformations started their dance irregularly, not yet able to run in many of the injured tissues, but strong enough to make her feel as if her palm was drowning right into him. Softly and tightly. A sting of pain cut through him, but when she tried to pull her hand back in reaction he covered it with his own and kept it in place.

~/It cannot be a glitch/~ she heard him inside her head. ~/See?/~ she felt how his surface reacted and unified with her fingers, everything pulsing with its own life. It was happening. For real.

“I love you too” - she whispered in a clear voice and let everything go. She let go all the tension, anxiety, fear, uncertainty, missing and waiting and everything else that poisoned her from within in the recent times. It fell off her like autumn leaves while her EM field flickered in all colours she had inside.

And Soundwave... It cradled him and fed him and filled him. He kept echoing the response to his non-question, tasting its sound like best highgrade, like fulfilment. He just looked at her and felt the moment unwind, everything was whole and complete. Mutual. Overriding the cuts and injuries, the complicated reality and the pain that he felt. Sweet pain of the touch of her healing hand. He allowed his spark to shine and fill his whole body with its glow.

This time he knew clearly what he was doing and it was soothing, even if he paid with the hurting of his fresh, still unhealed wounds. That was eventually nothing but a flavour to the soothing and the healing... The glow spread further around him and joined with her own shining reaching gently through her frame and reflecting in her armor plating. It shone through the ceiling window and under the door, painting a sharp streak of blue on the corridor floor.

~/Should I shut down my optics?/~ she asked without looking up.

~/No. It’s fixed now and I *want* you to see me/~

She looked up slightly anxious remembering how it ended last time. Within a spark pulse she saw his face. The dark metallic surface was alive and not fully defined. Made of something she did not comprehend but which was flickering a rainbow of purple, green and blue underneath the surface of the profound transparent velvet black allowing her to see deep deep inside through layers of wirings, optical fiber, crystallic microchips and nano data memory structures. It felt infinite and magnetizing.

~/Soundwave.../~

His optics were closed. Two almost not discernable thin lines across the face that seemed to live its own dark energy life. But his lips were ...smiling. She reached out her hand and touched the cheek. It was electrifying, burning and very beautiful as his every particle that she touched soaked with deep flickering biolight full of colour. It was amazing and she could not take her optics of the glittering surface. Intrigued she played with the light and the energy streaming through her and the glow that reacted to her so beautifully, while he rubbed against her hand delicately, following her fingers.

He was a *wonder*.

She stroke the closed lines of his optics as delicately as she could. At this unspoken signal first a very, very thin line of red appeared, as he opened them slowly, despite knowing the infrasonic blast was inactive, still there was a moment of hesitation. Or maybe because it made him feel defenseless and naked, as much as he in fact was, used to wearing the mask that hid his sensory arrays since more than centuries... The red glow shone through the small opening of his optics onlining until it filled the room mixing with the blue spark light into a purple-violet blend.

For her it was the first time they looked at each other for real. She tilted her head and blinked. These eyes, looking at her with care and the same desire, as she last remembered them and dreamt of them, made her fluids dissolve and got the energon racing madly across her veins. The little crimson shaded mechanical optical structures hidden behind the first impression of red glow were more complex than any most detailed atomic embroidery. The elaborate clockwork of crystallic components in his irises made them look ancient and secretive.

She realised that he must have been even older than she thought and the whole anomaly that he seemed to be was no anomaly at all when he was forged and came to life… There were *them*, the oldest Cybertronians, dedicated to science and research, explorers of new worlds, keepers of history and bearers of development. Similarly to Optimus, super sentient, when the Allspark was still strong and its radiation fed the sensory systems, feeling capacitors and receptiveness… so who was he exactly? Communications expert or was that what was left of his ancient extrasensory perception, that could still be used as a weapon in the times of war? Was that what led him to the abandoned mine? Could he *sense* organicon same as her, although he shouldn't be able to… if he was normal?

Was that what dragged her so enormously to him? Such an enchantment, infatuation, up to the physical transformation…

These thoughts went loosely around her head or deeper into subconsciousness, while the crimson eyes burned right a few inches from her, so that she could bet she felt their warmth on her cheek plates. They were intelligent, curious and meaningful, with a hint of diamond hardness that could cut the toughest stone. But now they displayed care and awaiting. Longing. Affection. They were showing the truth, one that she wanted to believe.

And it only confirmed her what she realized since a number of restless weeks. She was in for it, already tested the other options, and even if this one fails tremendously, it was the one to be pursued. She was going a dangerous path that could be very narrow and rocky, hardly ever easy but it was love, the most powerful of beings, that pushed her further. And having it all buffored in some blurry place at the back of her RAM, she melted to pieces drowning in these eyes and there was nothing in the universe that could replace it.

Her hand stroke his velvety skin with infinite care and fascination.

~/Soundwave, you are so beautiful/~ she uttered as she felt her own subconsciousness establishing silvery threads of multiple new energy connections between them. It felt like she was totally exposed and her firewalls were opening letting the new form of data traffic across. _Permission granted; unlimited data traffic authorised; commencing transfer protocols…_ It flashed weak alerts through her mind as the remaining security features of her physical integrity deactivated one by one to give place for the immense feeling of closeness and pleasure.

He saw how everything reflected in her eyes and face, the shades of changing emotions and the opening, the inevitability… _::Hey my little warrior…::_ he thought and warmth independent of all that physical chemistry spread inside him.

He leaned his head lower responding to her waiting, holding the long wing around her so that his fingers touched her feet still on the berth. Then he *kissed* her, the way she did last time, soft metallic lips covered with velvet rubbery skin of insulation on her hard bare metal lip plates, most gently touching the most sensitive surfaces.

~/I learnt this from you and dreamt of it ever since/~ it flew across to her, while she tasted the impossible burning feeling on the lips, and his body leaned even more over her with wings squeezing her strongly dragging her to him irrespective all the injuries and wounds. He kissed her lips slowly, while she replied with the same delicate movement initiating tiny connections and circuits between them. It swayed the world a little but they only held stronger to each other and enjoyed the touch of the lips and the sensitivity of the contact. Both inexperienced, not really knowing how to do it properly, so different to human beings in their structure, yet dragged enormously to the intimacy it was giving them. His field was secure, inviting and giving in to her at the same time. He did not say anything, even through the bond, but she felt it around her, inside her, deep and unspoken: _I dreamt of opening up for you, I want to be naked with you, I want you to see me, to touch me, to experience me… I want you to see what no-one has seen for years, vorns, eons. I want you to touch what has always been mine and only mine, hidden, defended, secured… Now I want to share it with you._

Then he kissed her eyes feeling her optics through the eyelids, and he rubbed his skin against her forehead and cheeks that were gently heating up in the contact, and he sought out her neck and buried his face between her shoulder and her head, smelling her and feeling her warmth. Then he found her lips again and kissed her this time stronger and deeper, finding his way inside, feeling the taste that he really never knew before, but that he recognised from the dreams, the sweet taste of life throbbing inside her, while she reached out her hands and held his cheeks tightly and tenderly, causing the same burning, captivating feeling they both remembered so well.

The room danced in vibrant colours radiating from deep under his surface as they kept kissing and kissing consumed totally by the new experience. Taking the time, keeping all sensors still at bay, he enjoyed the smallest details of what spread into him from that contact. He felt how she weakened and completely gave into him, how she followed everything he did, how her spark rhythm synced with his… The taste, the little harmless short circuits, and her wanting, her hungering, reflecting his own, keeping that on a leash to endure a few moments more of the caress before the unknown would become known…

The strength of his wings almost smashed her in sweet discomfort as he eventually took her up in his arms and smiling raised her from the bed cradling to himself like a sparkling, before he put her down, feet on the floor, as his weak and strained body was not able to hold out for too long like this. The only thing that was missing was his pulsing tentacles to grab her waist and spin and rub around her legs and arms. But he was mutilated and the data cables were just short little bits reconstructed miraculously by Ratchet and saved from ultimate amputation. She had no idea if they would ever grow back. She put her hand delicately on their cover plates and he allowed her to seek them up releasing the opening protocols. Although she knew everything, cleaned and cared for them multiple times, a little glimpse of apology radiated in his optics the same moment she gently reached out for them and she understood that one of his crucial abilities and symbols of his uniqueness was infringed.

~/I want you the way you are/~ she stroke the remains of the optical fiber connectors delicately while they reacted with the same pulsation she remembered so well and that she dreamt of.

She raised her blue eyes to meet the red glow from his optics, and a calm, reassuring wordless certainty flowed between them. He embraced her a bit stronger dragging her closer, extending the surface of the contact, thighs entangled, hips adhering, arms around each other allowing the nano transformations to grow stronger and become deeper and deeper. She felt how her body was changing, inside out, bit by bit, reacting and intertwining with his surface building little connections everywhere they touched. She kept looking deeply in his red gleaming eyes while the wounded data cables came alive and found their way to the hidden midsection dataports just below her chest armour. She shivered as a wave of desire crossed her with the heat of the pulsing spark.

Now.  
She knew it.  
Now she was ready.

It clicked a little as the ports responded to the cable connectors holding them into place, and the tendrils extended deep inside her body, down to the protoflesh, to the memory and consciousness structures she had but never really thought about. She felt them going in and attaching to her systems. It was strange but delightful at the same time. _Permission granted; firewalls deactivated; commencing data transfer…_ His wings covered her from behind, stroking and caressing her spine in a calming way, allowing her to focus on the new sensation that grew inside her. He watched how her eyes widened with awe when slow by slow the initiating transfers begun connecting their core sensory networks together. He kissed her again slowly cradling her in his wings, with taste of energon in his mouth, feeling into his few surviving tendrils from the torn data cables penetrating deeper and deeper as the connection grew open, while she literally *fell* inside him.

She had wings now. And she felt an enormous sting of pain in his chest that now was also hers. And the gleaming flickering skin of the face, and the lips that kissed her… belonged to her now. She felt as these wings that were now also hers caressed her own back and she now felt how much pleasure it gave him, immense goodness, ever competing with the pain… and everything else that started flowing through the connection and that filled her mind. With what was him. No names, facts or locations but just and as much as his sensations and feelings. His night, his depth, and everything that was his absorbed her in a black hole of dark dense matter with infinite time-bending gravity. She was falling in and in, deeper and deeper, into an extreme data overload, into myriads memories shapeless and undefined, emotions and long periods of emptiness… His glory and his shame, his power and his weakness, his pleasure and his pain… the most intimate...

He contained an endless richness of everything, an insane whirlwind of deep intense emotions and memories of youth, fear, pain, grief, rejection, anger, horrible cold, resignation, and disbelief, but also love, deep care, very very old happiness, closeness, missing, but most of all, curiosity and humanity, big ideals, that are much larger than the size of anyone’s individual soul or spark… An ancient care and worry for the world and its volatile wellbeing rather than for his own personal good. And just next to this, a vast empty nothingness spread its dark empty fields of long years, vorns, eons of loss, compulsive workaholic oblivion, shaded with modest pride, strict asceticism, a blend of overpowering logic, stifled aggression, deep rooted sadness and resignation.

Did she really let him in the same way? How deep did it reach? Did he know now how she fully felt about him, what she feared most and how much anger and uncertainty there was inside her? How much she melted right now with him, how strong his power over her was. Who else she ever loved before… What was there twisted and weak inside her, what her dreams were… She got very scared for a moment. He must have felt this momentarily consternation because consolation came in the same instant through the link, through his soft fingers and his warm lips. _It’s alright my spark, I love you the way you are._

For him, it was the first time since long that he could allow himself the luxury of relaxing inside his soul. Much more aware of what was happening he allowed her a free dive, feeling secure the way he did not remember since very very long. He could taste it peacefully, unthreatened, accepted. Arcee, almost unconscious and fully inside, was slightly fainted, overwhelmed and not realizing the world around her. He knew this state, he was there more than once, very long ago. He could control it, and react, he understood himself inside the immersion while he let her flow and get lost for a while.

In physical reality however he hardly stood on his feet. In order not to collapse down he carefully raised her up with great, painful effort, reluctantly disconnecting some of their parts, which she almost did not even notice with main tendrils sitting fast and a powerful transfer active between them. Cautiously he put her on her berth, squeezing himself next to her hardly fitting together in the narrow space. He smiled a little covering them both with her earthly blanket that now shone through with their blended light emitted from inside of their melting sparks. Far from comfort but as good as it got, he could now sink deeper into what he was given, while she already was everywhere, he felt her presence, chaotic and overwhelmed...

So, he stepped in slowly looking around for her most focused presence, to guide her away from the physical pain and discomfort, bad feelings, emptiness and recently endured violence. Instead he led her gently into a far, far past, where peace still resided, the madness did not yet take place and everything was full of shape and beautiful. Securing her from anything traumatic and trying to help her focus, himself he sought into her emotions of love, longing, care and passion. He tasted the feelings of friendship and closeness and brotherhood with mecha he did not know and would never meet, but her vulnerable sensibility and her warmth and regard for the others was something he almost did not believe could exist. First he touched it a little bit, then he allowed himself to get closer and feel it… and it was like tendrils of paint that started soaking in him and giving him colour, extending the strange and alluring feeling deep inside. He hoped dearly that a part of this what he touched had been savoured for him, but he could never be sure if and for how long… He suppressed the momentary sting of stress at this thought and relaxed again, finally allowing himself to travel deeper. To the more known resources of anger, frustration, determination and loneliness. And loss. He knew she had them… they were so much alike in this respect, except that where he had it empty since years she had vorns of experience and internal life that he could dig through forever.

Resurfacing again, he focused on the delicate flow between them and the physicality of the connection. Like those infamous nights on Nemesis, his skin went inside-out in the connection process, but now it did not meet emptiness of the unintimate, cold warship’s chambers, but it met her, the real, his own, his sweetest one, as inside-out as him, two bodies braided together, almost indiscernible, connected with sensory networks and a common energon flow, with defenseless sparks pressed together just millimeters away, charged almost to impossibility, ready for building the final bridge.

He meditated the excessive emotions she felt right now, licking delicately on the goodness of her inner warmth and caring. He needed her strength and he leaned upon it gently in the background. Slow by slow he managed to divert her focus from the chaotic drowning to what they both were feeling right now, into the *present* moment. Slow caresses and physicality, the uniqueness of tasting the other’s pleasure… and the reassurance of his own decision to reject all the black future scenarios. But most of all, the sense of togetherness, the touching of each-other’s self, the blending of the sparks.

It took him some time to find her core lost in the infinity of their connection and to put her in front of him. Finally she was there, gathering slowly all the chaotic particles of her soul, to find herself there where he waited, immaterial, shapeless, gleaming as one steady point in front of her within the evermoving boiling stream of existence.

_I am here, this is me, now. There will be time for everything else, later, I hope, I dream. Now touch me, hold me, the real me, this is what will bond us. This is now just the two of us, as one._


	13. Everybody Knows

Ratchet sighed as he passed the corridor carrying the data pad with the message from Arcee. He stopped in front of her room in the darkness, stepping in the blue-violet light patch leaking out on the floor. Many mixed feelings were fighting inside him, trust and mistrust, hesitation, guilt of negligence and suspicion of wrong estimation of the patient's state and possible consequences. They should have jailed him and put in stasis cuffs, or at least properly lock... But as Ratchet felt it would cause problems in healing of the very weak mech, he dissuaded them from it instinctively after the mess he had seen when operating Soundwave the other day. After all he had been battered by the only ones to whom he might be coming back to, it felt somehow unrealistic… Unless it was a deception. Was it? But you do not cuff someone who is injured all over his insides and hasn’t yet even begun to heal properly… And wouldn’t be able to transform or move properly… But now obviously he has been able to do so, evidently. Ratchet bit his lip with dissatisfaction. They just kept watch over him and now he himself failed to stand up to his duty. And here he had the results.

So now he stood next to the door and listened, looking at the light under his feet. In the first impulse he wanted to go in and check if everything was fine, but then he decided first to listen for a longer while instead. The silence was almost perfect broken however by the silent but heavy hiss of ventilation and cooling systems indicating presence inside the room. An intense presence… The light under his feet changed colour. Ratchet listened a moment longer and then put his optic to the small opening in the doorframe. What he saw brought both relief and a deep sting of worry. Soundwave did not escape indeed, he was there all right, not even particularly moving or anything... but in Ratchet’s view Arcee was far from controlling the situation. They both were standing there, clutched into each other in something that certainly was not a fight grip... Entangled and even hard to discern which one begun and ended where, merged together, shining beautifully, and Primus only knows how much and how deeply interconnected. That was not even regular mechanical interfacing, like anyone else he knew did. They were…glowing, impossibly retransformed to fit each other and strangely bared to the protoflesh, unified in a somewhat dramatic extent. It was not just a lovers’ pleasure game or warm closeness that he knew from own experience. It was different, stranger and deeper… Something rare he mostly only read about in scientific literature.

In a glimpse of an eye he saw a shade of Soundwave’s bared carbon black face gleaming from deep inside with dazzling unearthly sparks of colour, with a half closed line of an eye shining intense red at her nearly unconscious faceplates expressing an almost ultimate pleasure.

This made him close his eyes. It was enough, he needn’t be here, he did not have the right to look at this… He stepped back embarrassed of seeing Arcee in this *intimacy* with someone, another mech, a stranger, and a Decepticon at that. He felt an awkward sting inside, somehow angry and possessive, a little jealous perhaps. It was their Arcee after all, and she… she was… despite all previous observations, he almost disbelieved how she could be so irresponsible. For him, however alluring he seemed, Soundwave was still a Con, even if one tortured almost to death by his own folks, he was still no-one really trustworthy… Ratchet sighed again wondering what to do, when he suddenly felt a familiar hand on his shoulder.

He turned a meaningful look at his friend behind him and then again glanced at the door of Arcee’s room.

~“We will need to get to like Soundwave…”~ he commed via their private channel ~”He somehow slipped away to pay her a visit and… now they seem to be like, more than just friends”~ he did not know what to call what he just saw, looking at the light changing colours harmoniously on the floor ~”let's go away from here, I do not think anything more risky than that can happen tonight”~ he decided.

Optimus nodded, as he put his arm around the older medic and directed him away from the door deeper into the corridor.

”I felt it coming. They were so intense… looking at each other in the medbay and saying nothing” - Optimus did not seem surprised at Ratchet’s findings.

”Yep. Her comm channel wasn’t even busy, as if they just kept silent for hours, it is pretty freakish, you have to admit… But maybe the blasted commbot can do more tricks than we can imagine.” Ratchet replied now sitting in Optimus’ quarters. ”How can we be sure that he won’t spy or endanger us?”

”We cannot know this. But nothing has happened so far… And it has gone far enough that I believe a change took place”

”What do you believe exactly?”

”I do not know for sure, but they…” Optimus weighed words carefully - “they are, seem to be, bonded very strongly, the way it bends reality. Don’t ask me how I know it”

Ratchet’s optics widened - “What?”

”You saw something for yourself peeping at them through that door frame” - Optimus said embarrassing Ratchet for a moment - “Practically all we can do now is wait and see what kind of creatures will go out of that room tomorrow morning”

”Slag, Optimus… So you *do* trust him?”

”I don’t know, I do however trust *her*”

”But she is out of her mind”

”She has got judgement”

”Yep yep yep I keep forgetting, your daughter sort of a thing… and you would let her go off with a Con”

”Maybe he isn’t a Con anymore”

”Mhm...” - Ratchet’s rational part had serious doubts - ”now all security systems are on, like he wouldn’t hack them, let’s hope just he won’t try something. But I am quite reluctant to lose attention to what is going on, Optimus” - he said slowly - ”this is going further and further, like a snowball down the hill, who knows what this will bring. If we had someone to inform and just get rid of this problem to the Council or someone, to take care...”

”You know there is no-one we can now get in touch with. It is now *my* responsibility.”

Ratchet knew.

”Who are her real creators? I have a serious doubt now about what she is for real… How she can… transform to match him this way. You won’t believe what I saw. I always thought she was a cyber-ninja type, like Prowl...”

”She is.” - Optimus replied - “But there is also more to her… that she doesn’t even know herself”

Ratchet looked at Optimus as if he wanted to say something but seeing his friend’s face and knowing him better than anyone else, he gave up and they remained in silence.

After a moment the medic slowly leaned his tired and worried head on his friend’s shoulder feeling the bigger mech’s arm reaching softly around him.

“You have to let them be…” - Optimus said very quietly, stroking his arm delicately with his fingers.

“I wonder” - Ratchet confessed his deeper hidden thought - “How is he able to do that just after what happened? He was so… traumatised... torn apart inside, messed up and destroyed. What he went through, it was a total remorseless sexual assault. Like if someone tried not only just to abuse him physically for the sake of it, but to force his spark to glow that light we have just seen…” - he raised his head a bit again to look at Optimus - “That’s why, I think, this *someone* reached for the spark. Not to kill him, but to pull that light out...” Ratchet was now speaking his mind with a dose of disbelief, feeling the warmth of the familiar EM field inside the safety of their calm, mature and complex relationship, allowing him to open up and finally talk about the dreadful, disturbing memory of what he saw back in the medbay. - “This is never possible through any rape or even via plain voluntary consent… It comes only with…”

“...love...” - Optimus finished the sentence in a very low voice almost touching Ratchet’s audial with his lips.

* * *

 

  
Megatron stood at the bridge window clenching his fists again. His purple optics shone with madness and anger that he was hiding less and less. He needed, he wished and desired to find out where Soundwave disappeared. To find him, dead or alive, and find everyone else who might have supported him in whatever happened. The Autobots were a clear option number one. The version was plausible even for Shockwave who reluctantly had to set aside his Predacon experiments to deal with Megatron’s obsession. The buy-in for the need to continuously deal with the “Soundwave issue” stemmed from all the information that the comms chief was in possession of. It had to be established what intelligence might have leaked and in case he was still alive and swapped sides, he needed to be recuperated and terminated.

Inside his own guts Megatron did not feel like terminating Soundwave though, despite that he was the one shouting it out loud the most. His fantasies scared him to death, and he tried kill them, but instead more and more often he imagined himself finding Soundwave in some Primus forsaken place, still alive, rescuing him back, curing his wounds and… He could literally imagine himself licking his wounds to be cured, kneeling in front of the comms chief, embracing his slim waist, cuddling to his amazing bio lines, begging forgiveness and doing all that caring and serving that was reserved for the weak ones… He imagined the forgiveness to bless him, flowing off the wings of the shady figure, right through the armour plating into his spark. In his fantasies he felt the thin fingers and strong tentacles rising him up from his knees and taking him to that forsaken chamber which still bore the *smell* of the purple light from the mirror on the walls. The mirror was removed long ago but Megatron still detected its reflections on the walls with all his senses whenever he went in there. And he did go with a scary regularity. He disappeared inside, locked the, now fixed, door behind him, lay on Soundwave’s bed with his optics shut and waited for the long winged shadow to come and touch him. To caress him. To whisper sweet dirty words in his audials with the voice that he has never really heard. To rub the black disfigured dead eyeless wiring against Megatron's body, to raise and shift his armour plating, to open up and merge with him… He trembled and boiled with the itch to feel the tentacles slipping under his armour, deep into his flesh, to his sensory networks, let it even hurt and bleed, but _please don’t stop, don’t ever stop, don't leave me..._

The heated EM field vibrated fiercely of unfulfilled desire and trembling fever around Soundwave’s quarters and could be sensed through the door and walls. Gossip had it that moaning and crying could be heard from inside sometimes. But nobody could really confirm. No one of the crew even tried to be remotely close to the area, freaked out enough by the warlord’s mad eyes they were seeing now everyday.

But now, on the bridge, the demons and shadows kept to the corners in the well lit operations room of Nemesis, and it was him, Megatron, who now threatened them. The ball was in his hands now and everything he needed to do was just to trigger the line of dominos that he placed so diligently in the last days. Once they will roll, the Autobots will fall into his trap perfectly designed for the purpose of finding Soundwave. *His* Soundwave. All options were covered.

The Vehicons made themselves even more invisible than usual, avoiding even a slight contact with the purple eyes, as if their light could contaminate. As a matter of fact it did and nobody wanted to be in the line of sight. The gossip was growing swollen and nobody really wanted to play the role of the defeated communications officer on the torture-pleasure bed. As some of them did already, hiding the shame and the infringed integrity behind the walls of the warship and in depths of highgrade that was more and more in circulation since no-one monitored it anymore, while rarely asking for KnockOut’s help to heal their ugly sad wounds. 

* * *

  
Arcee woke up to the sun streaming through the roof window. It was far from comfort physically, but mentally she felt as if all the peace of the world descended right into her spark. She felt him recharging next to her, a sweet heaviness of his body that leaned partially over her on the narrow berth, hardly fitting together, enjoying the warmth of his wing lying loosely over and along her legs together with the blanket. She was squeezed against the wall, with her hand still on his shapely waist, and it felt good. It was peaceful and calm. The connection was gone, they were just lying close and the sun was shining at them making checkered patterns on the wall, its rays breaking down into irregularities on the curves of their frames. She still felt the sweet and overwhelming aftertaste of their… intercourse. She felt her faceplates warming up a little at that thought. Closing her eyes for a moment she felt something new inside herself, an alien bit, an inheritance, a set of emotions and experience that weren’t hers. It was nothing material or concrete, it did not have shape or colour, but it was like a memory of having been him for a time… Then she remembered vaguely how he called her up in that internal chaos of immersion and the moment they bonded. It still made her dizzy at the sole memory. She vented deeply looking at his sleeping face so near that they were almost touching cheek to cheek. Having him so close she missed him already.

She didn’t want to move and wake him up, but his warmth next to her made her want to touch his face again, to caress him, to make sure again and again that he was real. So she moved her arm gently upwards to stroke his cheek and then she realised that this was not just the usual warmth of a living frame… and that his chest was much hotter than hers, almost burning. _::Inflammation:: -_ she thought alerted. After all that they were doing last night, all this physical deep transformation exercise, disregarding completely the state he was in... it was more than likely to happen. He maybe even forced his microparticles to interface… not at all ready for that yet, after all he even could not yet walk normally... She felt a bite of cold fear over her spark. She raised her head and looked at him.

~/Soundwave?/~ she called through the bond.

Silence.

“Soundwave”? - she said aloud.

Silence again.

Slowly she lifted herself to see a little better, and then she noticed that the wound was leaking. Not much, just a little, however with something nasty, like overheated oils, not looking healthy at all. The main scar was spreading apart and its verges were scattered. She released herself from his sleepy grip and got out of bed, now not sure anymore if he was actually recharging or fell into stasis. She touched him delicately on the face and the closed optics. The black skin flickered weakly, the eyes did not open or react otherwise. He was motionless and still. She turned him around, flat on the bed, without any reaction. His body was heavy, overheated and passive.

As much as she hated the idea to explain herself to anyone, swearing over her own impatience and hasty desires of the last night, she clicked Soundwave’s mask closed manually and left looking for Ratchet… 

* * *

  
Ratchet did not even start asking his usual questions when he saw her face when Arcee stormed in the living room interrupting his and Optimus’ cup of morning energon.

She gasped only and exhaled:

“Come, Soundwave passed out”

He and Optimus exchanged quick tired glances after the badly recharged night, and both stood up from the table at the same moment while a dark blue arrow rushed between them from the ceiling disappearing in the corridor to her room with a speed of light.

“That’s what you get if one does not stay in the medbay when one is in a critical condition, but wanders about ladies’ quarters at night” - Ratchet murmured, but followed them to her room.

She heard it but ignored it, her processor queueing the remark to deal with later. When all the three arrived Laserbeak was already there sitting at the head of the bed and looking at them with a strange look.

“...and sleeps in the said ladies’ beds” - Ratchet finished his ranting but before he closed his mouth he had Laserbeak all over himself trying to peck him angrily. He tried to wave the bird away throwing his arms like mad while Optimus couldn't help chuckling at this sight. The family atmosphere in the base could get dense at times, even if by default they tried not to suffocate each other, being so few and so packed together on one-another’s head in a confined space of a foreign exile. Laserbeak, despite his animal nature, was obviously fed up with Ratchet’s comments and this situation was particularly ...uncomfortable for more than him.

“Ok ok, let's get to it.” - Ratchet sighed and took a closer look following worried and slightly embarrassed Arcee to the berth.

“Stasis” - he opinionated. - “Probably exhausted and overheated. We better get him to the medbay and induce auxiliary cooling circulation. But I’ve got to see closer. And the wounds… will need good cleaning and a weld or two. Again” - he added looking meaningfully at Arcee.

They brought Soundwave carefully back to the surgery while Ratchet murmured something about not being paid for regular treatment of suicidal Decepticons. But then, as he was Ratchet after all, he took care and examined him thoroughly after thrusting them all out of the medbay previously.

Arcee sat down with Laserbeak, now docked with her and she was looking bluntly at the floor. The avian moved a bit anxiously gazing towards the medbay door but he stayed with her, while Optimus brought her an energon cube and sat on a box in front of her.

They were sitting like this for a longer time, saying nothing.

“He did not ask what happened” - Arcee said finally looking at medbay where Ratchet was attending to the patient.

“He knows”

“I bet everybody knows now” - she sighed bitterly, scanning Optimus to decipher his face expression.

“It depends what. But everybody knows that you care for sure. And that we have no clue what to do with him.”

Laserbeak turned his head and glared and the big red-blue mech.

“What do you think we should do, little fellow?” - Optimus turned to the avian surprising Arcee not for the first time in her life.

Laserbeak looked him in the eyes for a moment and then looked back at the medbay again.

“Laserbeak wants them both to stay with us” - Arcee replied confidently.

“How do you know?” - Optimus asked.

“I… know”

“That is the point” - Optimus said seriously. - “You seem to know things and this makes you… subjective. We do not fully understand the nature of your knowing, and what is worse we do not know what the others involved...” - he looked back at the medbay - “know in turn.” - he suspended for a moment - “I also begin to realize that you made up your mind and want to be together with him for serious. I cannot decide though how much this makes things even more complicated than they are.”

Optimus was right. Arcee looked unhappily at him not knowing what to say, while he continued:

“But as much as close you two are, I do not feel fully safe for our team in this situation.” - he explained calmly, as if reading from yesterday nights' preaching of Soundwave which she then pushed away so readily. - “While you may be enchanted and in love, we cannot easily assume what he really thinks and what his next steps could be. What if he returns to Megatron to buy himself back by betraying our location, our lifestyle, our defences?” - she felt Laserbeak almost jumped up in his docks - “What if he decides to fight back for what he was put through? What if he remains fugitive and drags Megatron’s revenge on us as those who helped him? Imagine how many Decepticon secrets he possess… that is of value itself to be redeemed or destroyed by his former masters. What if someone decides to use you as a decoy to lure him back and finish the unfinished business? Or take revenge on you… for stealing him from someone else that might be now seriously jealous?” - Arcee’s spark shrinked for a moment at the thought that she was pressing away to the darkest corner. In fact she did not know anything about his past and his real relationship to Megatron. But she would have felt it… she would have known. After yesterday night, she would have known. She clinged to the thought and decided not to let the doubt in, while Optimus continued - “You yourself might be in serious danger, have you thought of that too? Maybe none of this will happen, maybe something else will, but we need to consider all rational options at hand…” - Optimus shifted a long persistent look at Laserbeak as if trying to get the little avian to reply these questions.

“We… talked about it yesterday” - Arcee replied silently. - “He… was worried too. He did not say what he would eventually do, but he is not ill-minded. And he won’t join back to the Cons. He changed. I… know” - she finished almost inaudibly.

“Well in fact I hope you are right and at the moment I have no option but to trust you really *know* and not just *want to believe*” - Optimus replied with this same calm devastating rationality. - “And when he wakes up we will need a serious talk. With him. Not like before, but for real. And I hope you can help that happen, because he himself is impermeable...” - he said in a sort of a helpless tone as if it changed anything. - “I really hope he did not learn too much from your ...encounter…, not mentioning our poor base defenses that are likely childishly easy to crack once you’re in” - the big mech sighed and gripped her hand in a light hold.

“I trust your judgement Arcee, but be vigilant and wise” - he said not adding anything else.

Then he let her hand go, got up and left her alone with Laserbeak streaming signals of anxiety mixed with, strangely enough, reassurance. She looked at the bird and stroke the little head.

~/What do you think?/~ she asked through the internal bond she used so intensely with Soundwave recently. Laserbeak looked up to her hesitantly, as if he was uncomfortable with this question. He looked then back at the closed medbay, chirped silently to himself and then he pinged for permission to activate an internal transfer of a file. She acknowledged and loaded the data. Laserbeak undocked and flew up to the ceiling looking at her with the smart crimson eyes from above. She looked up at him and opened the message. The file wasn't much but just a record of a free flight in the clouds, with birds in the distance and sun shining through the misty sky. Then the picture turned, as if the one who was looking turned back and glanced at a sight of a gigantic warship receding into the distance, smaller and smaller. That was Nemesis. Left behind. And it was Laserbeak flying away. Just that.

That was Laserbeak’s answer. She stood up glancing at the bird and walked up to the factory window to look at the sunny day outside, about which she almost forgot throughout all this darkness and dramatism that clouded around her constantly in recent times. She looked out and remembered herself the day after she was recovered back home from the organicon adventure. She could not imagine in her wildest dreams that she would reach to the point she was in now. Looking outside just the same, but now with sweet taste of Soundwave’s love in her mouth and spark, still uncertain towards the future, still worried, but miles away from the loneliness from that day. She had hope now...

She looked back at Laserbeak, nodding almost invisibly at him as he glided down to sit next to her at the window. Elbows on the window sill, she cradled her chin in cupped hands, and looked outside into the shiny warm world outside. Laserbeak nudged a little at her helm situating himself on her shoulder, and so they stood there looking into the perspective of a big golden-yellow desert bathing in the sun. The rusty ochre and siena, the golden sand and white-bluish sky above. She looked at it with totally new eyes. It was a deja-vu as if she saw it for the first time and yet again at the same time.

The signal was weak… and she did not pay attention at first but next she felt it again, as if something was waking up… pinging delicately at the back of her mind. She did not understand what that was in the beginning. She felt the warmth of the sun on her arms and face. She closed her eyes for a moment, and almost physically felt the long wings embracing her from behind, rubbing along her body, down to her thighs and knees. She opened her eyes, the sun kept shining and there was nothing different. She was there with Laserbeak and all the world seemed the same, but now she knew what was pinging her. She turned around and almost ran to the medbay with the avian setting off from her arm like a raven next to his witch. She only slowed down at the door and pressed the opening button slowly, sticking first the head in and then slipping in silently when the door opened.

Ratchet turned around and nodded at her.

“Everything ok” - He showed towards Soundwave with a nod of his head. - “Dunno what you did to him yesterday in that bedroom but he is in fact *considerably* better. He actually healed a lot since yesterday. The wounds were mostly external but inside he has loads of fresh protoflesh tissue, and those crystals of his… they seem to be growing back.”

She exhaled the massive amount of air she had unknowingly accumulated inside her ventilation system. - “He is waking up” - she said with an infinite relief. - “I just felt him start to wake up”.

“Yep… you got to tell me more about it” - Ratchet said in his usual grumpy voice but smiled a little to her with a corner of his mouth while looking at the diagnostics beeping on the screen behind, and then re-assessing his own nice weldwork. - “Now don’t put him to any *effort* for some time if you please, and don’t let him stand up by no means. Unless you want one more Decepticon down from your blacklist…” - he put his tools orderly into a closet. - “Ok. He is stabilised and I am going to finish my morning energon.” - It was noon already. Or afternoon. She knew he would never give up teasing her now, but she smiled back. Laserbeak sneaked out from behind her leg and back to the shoulder glimpsing at Soundwave curiously.

“Call me if anything, and if he *really* wakes up call me too. And watch for the bird not to do any mess.” Ratchet closed the door behind him with some audible grunt. That was a lot of caring as per Ratchet’s standards, and she also knew it. She stepped up to the berth and sat aside. She did not know what it was but she *felt him* getting out of stasis very slowly into a normal recharge. He was not moving or reacting but his life signal pulsed through their bond so she remained seated and just waited, while Laserbeak nestled down on her lap somewhat peaceful, as if he felt similar reassurance.

And so she held him by the hand and before long she felt the energon flow pulsing lightly at the joints of his fingers. And then his fingers woke up and braided around her palm, and they stayed like this, in the glittering invisibility of their EM fields, just enough to know about each other's presence, while reality drifted forward around them unnoticeably…


	14. Doomed

Ratchet woke her up from blissful recharge entering the medbay in hasty steps. She almost jumped up in her place as he rushed her by the shoulder.

“Have you seen Smokescreen coming back since yesterday?”

“No, why?”

“He seems not to have turned up after his night patrol. We thought he was recharging but he’s not there or anywhere”

“Did you comm or geolocate him?”

“Out of range, we can't locate him”

She got up a little too fast and the rests of the powerdown baffled her a bit, but she engaged the sleepy systems in place in no time.

“We’ve got to look for him!”

“They are already out looking”

“I have to join in, I’m rolling right now” - she said decisively heading for the door.

“Nope” - Ratchet was firm on this. - “Optimus’ instructions. Someone needs to stay with our guests in case I am called in. And who knows if this is not a trap on top of all the trouble. You will keep outlook for everyone's signals, operate the groundbridge and make sure those two Cons here will not make any problems.”

“But…”

“Arcee, please, you know well what's best”

She hanged her head down but she had to admit. She looked again at the motionless Soundwave and left to the control room. She seated herself behind the screens and started to work: run searches and location queries for Smokescreen but nothing really worked. So she followed the GPS localisers of the others keeping track of the search patterns based on his last appearances. She repeated the mapping exercise which Optimus ran already before. She displayed the recent readings when Smokescreen was still visible in the system and she locked her eyes on the yellow gleaming pattern of lines and dots. In the meantime Ratchet scrolled through all communications they managed to collect from Smokescreen on the public and private channels.

“It looks like he was looking for something” - Arcee looked at the dense groupings of GPS pins in some points.

“The guys checked these places already. Nothing there”.

“Hmm…” - she looked at the pattern again - “It makes me think of…” - she looked at it again and ran some calculations to herself - “it looks like a fractal pattern. Just… simple and not complete. If you assume locations of gaps here and here and here… Look Ratchet, there is logic in it, she exclaimed excited. Why would he follow a pattern like this?”

Ratchet tilted his head looking closer at what she found - “You know Smokescreen, he is a born hero and he is smart in figuring stuff out… he did not say anything to anyone of course. Why would he, huh…? Before he checked for himself.” - it was a clear pun aimed at Arcee, who did exactly the same, not just once or twice before.

“So if the gaps are here and here and here, where would the next point fall?” - she ignored the comment.

They leaned towards the map. She ran another round with the chosen algorithm.

“Here” - they exclaimed simultaneously. - “Optimus, we got something” Ratchet commed to the bossbot on the voice channel - “sending the coordinates…”

 _“It’s a trap_ ”

The monotone voice reached them from behind. Soundwave was standing in the shadow of the opsroom entrance, bent a little forward, supporting himself against the wall, and looking creepy.

“What?” - Ratchet turned around gazing at him with surprised optics. - "How do you know, if I may ask?"

Soundwave got hold of a metal barrier of the lower technical bridge and carefully walked towards them, step by step.

 _“I designed it myself…_ ”

“What???” - Ratchet froze in place looking surprised at Soundwave _._

 _“...a few vorns ago, for a different use_ ” - Soundwave ignored Ratchet’s upheaval. He moved forward in heavy steps, focused on the screen with the GPS sightings.

Silence filled the room until it was broken by Optimus from the distance.

“Ratchet? Ready to receive the coordinates...”

“Wait… it seems we need to clarify something with Mr Soundwave here… he says it might be a trap…  can you just wait there? ...and I will get back to you in a sec.”

Soundwave climbed slowly the stairs to the main screen. As they were looking at him they realised that a large 3D hologram extended in front of them displaying a steadily changing complex mathematical equation and a new, much more precise fractal pattern overlaid on the map.

A long finger pointed towards the place identified by Arcee and Ratchet on the map previously and a dotted pattern representing a group of poorly masked Decepticon signal locations appeared on the hologram.

They did not even realize when and how did he manage to analyse the map to such detail, drawing somehow precise measurements from their GPS system and correlating it with some of his own internal data.

The fractal pattern Arcee and Ratchet saw in front of them was now complete. It fit perfectly with the route that Smokescreen took. And the Decepticon spotted epicentric point was not far from where the Autobots were heading.

“What is going on? Can you explain?” - Optimus voice reached them through the static of the voice commlink _._

 _“It is a message to me_ ”. - Soundwave said in a grave voice. - _“They are after me_ ”.

Arcee’s optics widened.

“What is it?” - Optimus voice sounded fuzzy through the worsening commlink _._

 _“You need to back out_ ”.

Confusion filled the air. Nobody expected Soundwave’s first audible words would be issuing instructions to the Autobots. Arcee looked at him with questioning eyes. ~/What is it?/~ she asked through the bond.

~/Megatron/~

She looked at Ratchet and commed on the open voice channel so that everybody could hear.

“You need to listen to him”

“Since when do we listen to a Con?” - Ratchet did not sound confident at all in his rather formal protest. As a matter of fact inside he already believed Soundwave without further reservations. This added up and the fact that Soundwave told them at all, put it into context.

Soundwave ignored the comment. Instead he displayed in a very simplified way:

 ** _Function_** _: Determine Soundwave location_  
**_If_** _[Soundwave location: Autobot base]_ ** _Then  
_** **_If_** _[Soundvawe siding with Autobots = True]_ ** _Then_** _[warning to Autobots = True]_  
      ** _Else_** _[Soundwave siding with Autobots = False]_ ** _Then_** _[warning to Autobots = False]_  
**_End If  
_** **_Else_** _[Soundwave location: Autobot base = False]_ ** _Then_** _[warning to Autobots = False]_  
**_End If  
_********_End Function_**

 **_Function_ ** _: Determine warning effect_  
**_If_ ** _[warning = True]_ **_Then_ ** _[Autobot response = True]_  
**_Else_ ** _[warning = False]_ **_Then_ ** _[Autobot response = False]_  
**_End If  
_ ** **_End Function_ **

**_Function_ ** _: Determine Autobot response effect_  
**_If_ ** _[Autobot response = True]_ **_Then_ ** _[Smokescreen: useful as trade object = True]_  
_[probability of saving Smokescreen: high]; variables: [Autobot decision] [trade success] [Soundwave decision]_  
**_Else_ ** _[Autobot response = False]_ **_Then_ ** _[Smokescreen: useful as trade object = False]_  
_[probability of saving Smokescreen: low]; variables: [value of Smokescreen for Decepticons] [Megatron mood]_  
**_End If  
_ ** **_End Function_ **

**_Function_ ** _: Determine Smokescreen options_  
**_If_ ** _[Smokescreen useful = True]_ **_Then_ ** _[trade];_  
**_Else_ ** _[Smokescreen useful = False]_ **_Then_ ** _[Smokescreen elimination]_  
**_End If  
_ ** **_End Function_ **

**_Additional variables:  
_** _Assumption: Smokescreen location = Nemesis [probability = high]  
_ _Nemesis location: unknown_

 **_Conclusion_** _:_  
_Smokescreen Options:_  
**_Option 1_ ** _: Trade  
_ **_Option 2_ ** : Elimination

“Holy scrap” - Ratchet rolled his optics - “Can’t you… ehm… speak like a normal mech?” - Nevertheless he scanned and transmitted the visual of the script to Optimus almost on the fly. - “What do we do?” - he asked eventually towards the end of the line.

“We can…” - Optimus started saying something through the static but then he changed his mind. - “We are coming back to base”.

* * *

  
The discussion was fierce and long. They were analysing the options they had, actions they could take and uncertainties they faced. Smokescreen’s location was unknown and the only thing they could rely on was what Soundwave was telling them. It seemed weird but somehow they had to trust him at least a little bit, at least to the extent allowing an assumption that the fractal pattern was indeed a message aimed at triggering reaction, and the hypothesis that Smokescreen was imprisoned on Nemesis and not somewhere else, and his past signals were fake to simulate the said pattern. Even if it was much more complex, than what Soundwave initially presented, it came down to exactly the same thing. It was aimed at checking his location by using the reaction from the Autobots. And they already reacted, so the script got rolling…

Otherwise they had no idea how to look and what else could have happened. Normally the Decepticons were their main natural enemies on the planet they occupied as they were many times bigger, technologically advanced and more durable than its native inhabitants and their machines. The relations with humans worked somehow as long as they kept low profile and maintained necessary links with proper authorities, and recently there was no indications of any issues. So it was more than likely that it was the Cons behind the whole thing.

In any case, nobody had any idea how to find Nemesis which was now also shielded from Soundwave who was completely cut off and no longer had access to her location. Clearly Megatron preferred to find him on his own than to allow him to come back even if theoretically he assumed Soundwave was alive and still wanting to come back at all, which after all was one of the options set out in the equation.

There were way too many assumptions and need for trust as for the Autobots’ liking. However there were only three options to find out that they could think of: go ahead chasing the signal pattern, plainly get in touch with Megatron and ask, or to try to lure the Cons somewhere and try to squeeze them for intelligence. Else, they could just go around looking blindly. None of the options was good, or even satisfactory. None of them solved the problem, and the time Smokescreen was gone and out of range prolonged dangerously. 

While they discussed, Soundwave was sitting slightly in the back listening only, and not saying anything more than he said previously. It seemed he just said it once, and that was sufficient. Actually as Ratchet noted, he said almost the most they ever heard of him stepping out of his silent bubble of written and visual communication, and this alone was making a strange impression on the Autobots, who could not help but to still see him as some sort of a strange creature, a bit of an alien within their own kind. They were looking at him cautiously from the side and wondering if he should be allowed in this discussion at all. That concerned everybody but Arcee. Arcee trusted him fully and without reservation.

But now she felt really strange. He was twice as silent as usual if that was at all possible and the focused sensation in his EM field gave her a nervous itch. It felt as if their bond got somewhat tighter but also narrower, as if he was trying to hide his emotions but at the same time something dense and fearful leaked through. She approached him slowly and seated herself next to him leaning a bit on her hands and looking at everyone from a distance. The bond was silent. He did not communicate even in their most intimate animalistic way. He was thinking. She was not sure what was going on inside him as she did not really have experience or knowledge how to read him well yet, but this painful concentration started to scare her for real. She looked at him with a question in her eyes. And then she felt him touching her hand behind her back and a cocktail of emotions filled her streaming through a sudden, needle thin connection. And then her fear materialised.

 _“Megatron wants me”_ \- he said quietly fitting it precisely in a short moment of silence in the discussion. Not through a commlink, not through any bond, not through numbers, transmissions, recordings, graphs or visualisations. He just said it like he once said her name, in the bare, ghostly, automated voice of his, that everyone could *hear*, making the silence in the room feel suddenly strange and profound, resonating with the metallic unnatural sound. And then, now squeezing her fingers really strong in his hand, he added - _“I should go and face him again. It’s the only way to save your friend_ ”

Arcee almost jumped - “Are you out of your processor??? You just only started to recover…”

They all turned around and now five pairs of different shaded blue optics were glaring at him. And then at her. And then they looked hesitantly at each other, then at Soundwave again. Ratchet’s eyes slid down to their holding hands hidden mostly behind them but still visible from his angle and for a moment he felt a streak of sad warmth in his spark that went one more time against the policy of distance in which he consciously tried to uphold and talked about most.

Optimus did not reply in the first moment. He kept looking seriously at Soundwave, seeing Arcee’s unhappy face with the corner of his optic. He was considering. Finally he said: 

“I have no right to say yes or no, as you are not under my leadership… As a matter of fact I *appreciate* your proposal for the sake of Smokescreen, who is very important for us as you know already.” - he said very slowly stressing the significance of first sentence with a longer pause - “I also understand the possible need for settling your bills with Megatron. Although I feel anxious for your physical condition as not sufficient to succeed…”

Soundwave did not reply. He only nodded slowly at Optimus while the silence became even more awkward. Arcee heard her own spark working heavily in slow motion, and her fingertips pulsing in his hand. It took forever until she forced herself to open her mouth, but she did not make it to say anything, as suddenly the main commlink beeped in the opsroom with an incoming transmission. They did not really need to check specially to realize that the message arrived on the official Decepticon frequency.

Optimus got up and went to the opsroom followed by others. It was not even a call but just a text message: _Bring Soundwave dead or alive tomorrow morning 5 am UTC-5, fractal epicentre, or your boy scout will be dead_.

“You were right” - Optimus sighed looking back at Soundwave who moved into the opsroom really slowly holding on to the wall - “We’ve got 12 hours”.

Arcee did not follow them. She stayed in the living room alone as they were staring at the screen. Suddenly she felt weak and abandoned. Unnoticed she sneaked out to her room leaving them all behind to finalize the decisions she did not want to hear about and which she could not prevent. In the loneliness of her own chamber she sunk down to the floor ignoring a shy call from Soundwave through the bond, not able to react or respond.

Laserbeak who emerged from nowhere flew a few rounds around her uneasily and then sneaked out to Soundwave through a narrow opening in the door, not knowing what to do and where to find his place. Somehow he always understood what was going on, and now, he was torn between his two carriers, freshly sparkbonded and so well fitted together, connected with their full beings just the night before, now to be cut off from each other. Probably permanently. One of them doomed.

She was sitting alone for some time hearing the voices of the others in the distance before Soundwave finally stood at her door, still so weak and not able to follow her fast enough to catch up with her and stop her from hiding.

His greatest fear came true. It was logical that something like this would happen sooner or later. He was almost always right when it came to logic. And he knew Megatron, now all too well. So now heaven ended and it was back to hell. For the sake of… what? Doing what was right? Wasn’t Arcee the only thing that was right? Did she even really realize it? Did he do it for *her*… eventually? In the twisted logic that he could not even yet fully break down into basic elements, he assumed he would manage to get out of this situation somehow, in the end… And maybe he just did not fully believe that all the good part happened for real. It was like he was given something that was condemned to failure right from the start and now the self fulfilling prophecy pushed him to do... what? Stop being passive in the situation that surpassed him? Paying back the obligation and dues for being saved once and getting those who helped him into trouble that *he* and *his* complicated situation was the reason for... It was all about *him* after all, and Smokescreen was just a random victim of his dues and loyalties. So he was now about to confront the destiny he hated to think of… Play a “hero” in a situation, when they would have to give him up eventually anyway, as if he had any choice at all... Or maybe to finally and fully win her spark with this perverse noble-mindedness, or to win her memories of him, as someone who did the right thing in contradiction to so many things he was doing before for so long? Or to eventually seek redemption in front of himself for what he was in the past for so many vorns? To be accepted to stay by leaving as a victim of his own choice…?

Thoughts stormed him like an ocean and it was so new and overwhelming that it almost totally overloaded his processes. He would never ever even think of something like that before. Before, in the past, he would almost for sure laugh at this kind of an act, classifying it as highly *illogical* and close to ridiculous. That would have been *before* he got his sentient nature back. The one that had lead him to self destruction the same way, very very long before, when the war broke out and he finally made his decisions. But now, now he was bonded with Arcee, and took a piece of her to embed it inside him. Deep in a sacred place.

Oh, yes, Nemesis was right. He has *changed*. He could almost not recognise himself anymore. And it was dramatically scary. And strange. And larger than life. He felt it in every bit of himself. He was no longer *empty* anymore…

The muddle in his mind was so chaotic that he was not able to address it or dismantle his own entangled thoughts. He looked at her crumbled on the floor and his spark sunk even deeper. He was not so sure at all of anything he was doing now. He was trapped and felt guilty anyway. Whatever he would do was eventually wrong. So wrong. Doomed to failure.

He walked up to her and sat down next to her. She sent him a very pale smile letting him hug her, and stroke her lightly on the face, and then hug her again. In silence. Then they were sitting on the floor leaning against the wall for a long time, close together, saying nothing. Explaining nothing. Not discussing his decision. Not even through the bond. They just were sitting there sharing not more and not less than the warmth of their frames, and restless fields full of angst and bottomless worry. She pressed her face to his shoulder, to his neck cabling, feeling the lifegiving energon flowing uneasily through his veins, feeling his fear, feeling his soft apologetic kisses over her helm and forehead. The only thing she said during all that time was ~/I love you Soundwave/~ followed by his strong embrace, much to strong for his condition. A hug that did not let go, like he was holding on to her as if she were the only bright spark on Earth, in the galaxy, in the universe. ~/I love you Arcee/~ floated from him into her thoughts, ~/I belong to you Arcee/~, ~/I will come back to you whatever it takes Arcee/~, ~/Whatever it takes/~ and nothing more. She feared to look him in the eyes. She wanted just to run, drive, speed in a killing speed towards a merciless wall of rocks in a distance, to crash there to pieces beyond restoration.

Then Ratchet knocked on the door and asked Soundwave to follow to the medbay. For a check-up, he said. To make sure everything was ok, just in case, he said. That Soundwave was fit to… to fight? Or maybe just to walk at all? To free himself? To do what, exactly...? The two mecha commlinked briefly between each other, while she remained sitting in place, like she was paralysed, even when he kissed her for the last time and followed Ratchet for the provisional repairs. She did not follow. She didn't even notice how Soundwave did not really care that Ratchet saw him unmasked, and that he witnessed their last desperate caresses while waiting at the door and turning his optics away. He said something about coming back afterwards. But it would take long. Long. When they left, she just curled up listening to the quiet painful bond inside her, feeling how her throat strangled her, and her energon refused to flow, and her eyes burned her with oily tears that would not drop.

Laserbeak, who with his usual discretion appeared from nowhere, sat next to her on the berth and poked her gently on the helm. She looked at him with blurry vision and opened her arms letting the avian dock in. Then she held him close to herself feeling the warmth of the little body.

She took her blanket with her and sat in lotus position with a strong resolution to meditate. To think. To let the reason win. If she was supposed to defeat the destiny, she had to think.

*Think*.


	15. Avenger

Sitting on the floor, she started rocking slightly back and forward to ease her processor with the slow movement. She talked inside her thoughts to Laserbeak trying to detach her head from her aching spark. Her hand roamed obliviously along Laserbeak’s smooth backplates and wings, feeling the avian’s restlessness as strong and overwhelming as her own.

 _::Oh Laserbeak, Laserbeak… what are we going to do? We need a better plan than that... I cannot let him go. I cannot let him back there… My little Laserbeak…::_ \- her thoughts were torn and unfocused, desperately looking for something to hold on to. A solution. A plan. - _::They will not defeat me. It is not going to end here, not like this… I will… I will not let it happen. Whatever it takes. Even if I am to do it alone. I am… a warrior. A fighter. I never give up. Never give up. Never give up…::_

The little avian did not need words to understand her mind and her desperation that floated with his own, as much as he understood everything that was about to happen. Her spark was now pulsing in an uneven rhythm. Laserbeak felt her love and protest filling her field with a stifled cry _\- ::If I could find and get Smokescreen back before this all happens… If I only could get to Nemesis:: -_ she was thinking impossible scenarios in her head, while the little symbiont was scanning her field and thinking intensely in his bird processor. A small but powerful processor network supplied with data from mighty sensors as for such a small being that he was. A proud symbiont of a surveillance machine...

So Laserbeak extended his scan floating with his mind further away to an old, very ancient signal he memorised from eons ago. He was looking for a hope. A streak of hope from a massive paralysed spark of a powerful being he knew and that was his last resort. But he could not find someone so well shielded against recognition from anyone outside, now also against him labelled as a traitor all along with Soundwave. But he still could find something... or the *lack* of it... the emptiness the shielding caused. Moments passed while he filtered out all anomalies for a sign of pure nothingness. For an empty hole large enough not to be an Earth phenomenon, and to hide a giant Decepticon warship. And he found it.

An urging string of 3D coordinates streamed through his bond to Arcee: location of a great empty unjustifiable vacuum in all signals which could be the only hiding place of Nemesis. Where even clouds and air did not exist. A great spot of void in the Earth stratosphere. That was it.

Arcee did not understand only in the first moment. But as she recognised the location code she fathomed how high in the sky it was placed, her face changed. Her cheekplates fastened, her lips bit together, her eyes narrowed. She rose heavily from the floor and with clenched fists she looked out to the already dark corridor scanning the base for activity with her sensors sharp. She heard the focused presence of Optimus in the opsroom, and Ratchet in the medbay. She felt Soundwave powered down next to him. She localised Bee and Bulkhead in their rooms taking a last recharge before the uncertain and busy morning. Everything was calm. Then she sneaked out. There was no time to go around the base and look for weapons. She looked into the empty and still well lit hall where the groundbridge was located. Nobody was there. They were busy and they could not see her if she only moved quietly enough. The light in the hall could cover at least partially the luminosity of the teleporting beam. She had to try.

She programmed the 3D coordinates into the system and set a small script for the automated return launcher like she did the last time. Then without any further thinking, just praying silently to Primus and her own luck, she thought: _\- ::Now or never:: -_ and together with Laserbeak she disappeared in the yellow-green haze of the bridge closing it right behind them.

The groundbridge opened a bit over the top of the big vessel up in the clouds. She fell a few feet, but it did not cause her any harm, as the surface was flat and she landed smoothly on four paws, like a cat. The cyber-ninja training that Prowl patiently was giving her across the years of the previous service now paid off in every bit. She landed soft and sure, grabbing to the warship hull with a firm grip, she managed to crawl along to a place where she deemed herself invisible enough to stop for a while and ran a thorough scan of the situation. At the same time Laserbeak pinged her for a transfer and, to her content, he sent over a detailed plan of Nemesis structure. Yes… she had a Decepticon symbiont with her, on her side, with his knowledge and a good, trustworthy bond. She grinned viciously  _\- ::I am coming to get you Megatron:: -_ she thought inside her processor and suddenly a bliss of power filled her spark - :: _You will regret you have ever been forged…::_

She launched Laserbeak’s map into her internal local positioning system and mapped the prison cells, most probable location of Smokescreen’s confinement, confirming a very faint signal of what seemed to be an Autobot energy signature. She ran her sensors across the surrounding in search of surveillance devices and doing this she realized that she felt as if she was something more than only herself. Her sensors were flawless and stronger than ever, she seemed to notice and recognise so much more than she would ever suspect herself to be able to. She opened fully to all signals from now free-floating Laserbeak who, without asking, was streemeing his vision and sound recognition to her system making the picture multisource and multidimensional, which she surprisingly managed without any difficulty. She shielded her energy signature as much as she could, becoming almost invisible to any EM sensors and trackers. The unpreceded sense of power she experienced felt good and gave her confidence when she crept to the nearest ventilation hatch located in the landing deck avoiding any external visual surveillance that Nemesis had installed on her hull. Using the detailed maps soon enough she found the entrance to the main ventilation shaft that she unscrewed surprisingly fast and crept into easily being so slim and agile as she was.

Due to the overall heavy external shielding Nemesis was not too well guarded on her actual physical surface. All the crew, Megatron included, trusted in technology to make it disappear from any popular sensors, not suspecting the inverted thinking that Laserbeak applied and Arcee took advantage of. Therefore nobody expected that something dangerous might appear stealthily right on its surface. If they awaited anything, this should come from a distance like a plane or a bird, that would trigger the powershield sensors located around the ship in the air. But not at its very surface. In their arrogance they also did not expect the inferior beings such as they perceived Autobots to be, to be able to find her with sensors and aim a groundbridge at her.

So the lithe duo sneaked quite easily across the arborescent technical corridors of the warship deprived of their main eyes and ears of all-seeing and all-hearing communications officer, and with clumsy security from Vehicons who took to highgrade more and more often, even plainly on duty. Equipped with no elaborate plan, the knowledge of Laserbeak and fearless determination, Arcee did better than she would have ever expected. She cheated everyone and now she was on her way to the prison cell where Smokescreen seemed to be held. Unseen and unnoticed she was now doing the impossible thing that was dismissed by all at the base just a few hours ago…

The end of the ventilation shaft that led her in line with the vessel layout remembered by Laserbeak, lead almost at her target location - inside the prison corridor at the end of which a guard booth with two Vehicon soldiers was located.

She lay flat at the end grating when Laserbeak stopped her and transforming to something extremely oblate and narrow, that she did not even realize that he could, he squeezed across the grating, and graciously avoiding the surveillance cameras reach he glided silently under the very ceiling towards the booth. Obedient to the bird’s signals she waited as he slipped into the guard’s room and shot two well aimed and precise laser impulses putting the two guards into stasis without further hassle. Then he redirected the cameras slightly upwards, leaving a small tunnel of unwatched floor space along the corridor and relying her the path to be followed. She had to be quick, but if they were lucky and she took sufficient care not to be seen it won them a couple of minutes without an alert to the main monitoring centre, before anyone realizes there was something fishy with the prison CCTV.

Then she could get out. Making almost no noise she cut the ventilation grate from the inside, crawled out to the corridor, and crawled again on the floor checking cell by cell to find Smokescreen sitting cuffed on a bench in one of them. He noticed her with large, surprised optics, as she gave him a mute clear sign of silence. Assisted by Laserbeak clearing the camera view angle, swiftly she deactivated the locking mechanism hacking into it using the bird’s knowledge, and let him out. Laserbeak gled towards them and surprised her again by dismantling the stasis cuffs with a precise shot from the air deactivating the numbing effect of the restraints in a blink of an eye. Then they retreated silently to the ventilation duct, putting the grate behind them with a provisional quick weld, just to hold it in place.

Led by the map and her exquisite spatial orientation they crawled out back quickly to the landing deck. They really needed to hurry now, as it took long enough for anyone doing any monitoring to notice the anomalous angles of the prison cameras, and also because the programmed set of groundbridge coordinates were locked into a static position, while Nemesis was moving forward all the time. Therefore the teleport location moved already substantially since the moment she arrived, now being placed almost at the very end of the warship, or even slightly behind it. All they needed to do was to cross the landing deck under a much better take-off and landing control system, that could not be as easily cheated as the meager front hull security. This time it was almost impossible to make it unnoticed by even untrained guards. And clearly they were noticed. Running as crazy towards the coordinates of the groundbridge she realized that a group of soldiers spilled out of the main deck hatch with their weapons ready to shoot aiming at the three challengers who tried to daringly to defy the large warship defenses. Not thinking much Arcee fired off the groundbridge protocol making the yellow green hole open just behind the warship end, as she leaped after the running Smokescreen with a scream:

“Run, for Primus, INTO THE GROUNDBRIDGE!!!”

And he ran falling down to infinity, together with Laserbeak, whom she saw turning back to her in attempt to drag her with him, in a moment of suspension, realizing that the groundbridge was consuming and sucking him as well but that she, just a few meters too far, would not make it, separating them in a flash, when the groundbridge instantly closed, right before she jumped, almost slipping off the wet deck floor into the gaping empty space below…

 

* * *

  
It was late evening when Soundwave suddenly woke up from the forced medical powerdown, lying on the medberth same as many days in a row before, now with sorrow and uneasiness filling him inside. It was dark in the surgery and it seemed Ratchet left for a moment or, against his promise, he did not wake him after the hasty provisional repairs. He was alone. He sat up swiftly prompted by a feeling of urgency as if something very bad just happened. He looked around and listened to the absolute, heavy silence inside him. Then he realized. It was not the silence of the base, which hummed with its usual sounds. It was his bond that was dead quiet. Both Arcee’s and Laserbeak’s life signatures were non-existent. As if someone deleted them from the world. Not used to panic, he focused instead on putting all his processors to immediate analysis mode. Little bits of facts, data and deeper insights from last night started clicking together at a tremendous speed fitting each other like pieces of a puzzle. An anxious feeling of intuition grew inside him with a strength of an avalanche. _::For Primus sake, Arcee you insane fighter!!!::_

Indifferent to any pain he jumped up from the berth and rushed with all his ability to the opsroom, pushing the startled Optimus away from the main computer and he drilled with the short datacable tendrils right into the primary mainframe without need for any useless peripherals, overriding any firewalls in a nanosecond. Oblivious to the shouts of the others who emerged behind him and Optimus’ arm that tried to push him away in the first moment, he hacked in directly to the main radar dish they had hidden up on the base roof and directed a powerful search up in the sky.

Optimus looked at the screens with large optics, glaring at dazzling disorganised scripts and calculations which Soundwave did not even care to look at, launching queries and searches, tuning both his own and the base sensors to find anything that could give any clue, at the same time checking the local systems for any signs of Arcee’s possible actions. Then he found something. He looked back at Optimus and a large word popped on the main screen catching attention of them all.

_GROUNDBRIDGE_

They all turned around as if on a prompt, rolling up again the door of the opsroom at the same time, just to see the yellow-green haze open in the main hall, and Smokescreen and Laserbeak shove through with a crusty metal screech to find themselves disoriented in the middle of the floor.

And then the groundbridge closed with a strange crack and hiss.

Without Arcee.

A glimpse of understanding surfaced on Optimus’s face.

“Did she… Arcee…”

Smokescreen picked himself up from the floor and almost shouted:

“Open the bridge again, Arcee didn’t make it! And recalculate, Nemesis is moving… fast”

Soundwave looked back at them with the black of his mask that was even more black than usual. Still connected to the mainframe he run another search calling on Laserbeak through the bond quicker than the avian managed to even react. The symbiont obediently docked down to him swiftly relying all the scenes he witnessed until the last moment before teleportation. And the method he used to get them up to Nemesis. This was the *key*.

“For Primus sake!...” - Optimus gaped wanting to say something but then his optics fell on Soundwave’s dark figure working with the mainframe in focused silence. - “She must really…” - he did not finish the sentence.

The satellite radar dish on the roof turned around to seek the new position of the great emptiness in the sky, while the heavy hand of Optimus landed again on Soundwaves shoulder. This time he did not try to drag him away from the opsroom terminal.

“Find her, please.” - he said in a low voice, almost a whisper, knowing already that this was an unnecessary instruction. Soundwave was almost done reprogramming the groundbridge.

But then, as per Murphy’s law, something went wrong.

* * *

  
Rain started falling in large drops over the landing deck. Arcee stood at its very end. Knees bent low, hands armed with her standard small laser blasters, ready to jump like a cat, she was glaring with angry eyes towards a group of armed soldiers in front of her aiming at her with multiple weapons. The moment took forever. She felt as the rain wet her armour and water started dripping along her back, her arms and her chest, down to the ground.

She was not Autobot and not Decepticon now. She was Arcee. A fighter in her own cause. A defender of her own right. An avenger. If the destiny she wanted to defy was telling her something, it was now whispering in her audials a tale of great unsolicited anger and urge for revenge. On behalf of them both. In the virtue of all suspicions of things which Soundwave did not tell her but she could see from his wounds that gave her nightmares, the night spent at the operation table trying to fix these wounds, and for the exchange deal requested by Megatron, that she did not accept. It was *personal*. The metallic taste in her mouth felt strange but also enticing. The “no way out” behind her back did not intimidate her. _Whatever it takes…_

She was trapped, but it must have been the same destiny that she challenged that put her in this place. She did not fear it. Now it was the rage that was driving her.

She looked at them putting all her strength in her gaze. Then she moved forward right towards them in slow, heavy steps of a wild predator animal getting ready for a jump, head a little low, eyes narrow and burning, fists slightly clenched, but not fully closed, ready for any reaction required by the moment.

“Where is he?” - she asked in a strong voice.

“Who?” - a low, heavy voice replied from between the Vehicon troopers as they stepped aside to let their leader through. - “Who are you looking for, my little lady?” - he almost laughed - “Have you booked an appointment with someone or am I doing you an honor with this unexpected hearing?”

“You” - she moved slowly in a powerful pace, feeling bigger and stronger with her determination than she really was.

“So did the Autobots decide to send me a replacement for my favourite and invaluable communications officer?” - he measured her with an assessing look running from head to toes as if she were a pleasure-drone on a sales display - “Can you be as *good* as he was? A deal is a deal, but I may consider this an interesting option… at least for the fun of it…” - he grinned - “Is my slender long winged friend indisposed or unwilling to serve his master? Or is he such a coward that he sends his little cute mistress for negotiations instead of showing up himself?” - he seemed to have fun in trying to tease her, but she looked like she did not notice. The Vehicon soldiers stood frozen following her with focused gazes, awaiting when their master gets bored and gives the order to shoot.

“There will be no exchange” - she hissed between her bitten scarred lips - “They lied to you and he is dead” - she bluffed with conviction - “and I’m here to pay you back. How much is his life worth for you…?”

Megatron’s optics widened for a moment, as surprise surfaced on his face that quickly changed into anger. She expected a next sarcastic answer, but something in what she said must have upset him enough for an uncontrolled reaction. He seemed to have bought her words...

“You little liar” - he snapped unexpectedly as he jumped towards her in one fast leap.

She was ready. This was what she imagined a few times already, what she trained in her mind in angry moments after tending to Soundwave’s unconscious hurt body, after she saw the almost extinguished spark and shredded datacables...

She ducked swiftly in the last moment leaping to the side, letting him drop forward with all his weight into the empty space that she occupied a nanoclick ago. He staggered with the strength of the strike that was aimed at her but met the wet rainy air.

“How much?” - she repeated her question landing a quick lean punch at his back and using the momentum to push him out of balance so that he fell over heavily into the direction of his initial failed strike. Now she was standing right behind him with her blaster aimed right at his neck, and raindrops were dripping down her helm.

The Vehicon audience released an almost inaudible air vent seeing this momentary unexpected turn of action. All guns aimed at her, all eyes gaping open at the sudden deadlock which she herself did not even expect. But her fury was stronger. She leaned lower transforming one forearm into a blade that now flashed in front of their stunned optics pinning Megatron’s neck down to the landing deck floor.

“Oh yes, sweetspark, cut right through” - he sneered in a lusty voice, feeling a hint of hesitation in her field - “What do you even know about it..., would it cost as much for you?” - he continued, and then suddenly he grasped her by the leg and pulled her to the side with an undercut making her fall with a loud crash. Her backstrut hit her with blinding pain for a nanosecond as she landed on her back hitting the head against the floor. She opened her optics right after to see him above her now standing with this blaster aimed at her spark. His eyes were gazing at her attentively.

“So it is true… you indeed carry Laserbeak now.” - he commented analyzing her slightly transformed chest bearing signs of the bird’s docking. - “How tasty… I wonder where do you dock *Soundwave* in turn. Because you do that, don’t you?” - now he leaned lower towards her, obviously rejecting the comms chief’s death option after some consideration. She felt his field encompassing her emitting a strange lusty satisfaction. - “And now perhaps I will dock you instead… A little payback for claiming my property... How weak and silly of your lover to send over a helpless femme to end his own unfinished business.”

She observed him with strange calm from behind her narrowed optic shutters as his self confidence was floating and blooming around her. Bits of her anger mixed with bits of her cyberninja training she received from Prowl. Waiting. For a moment of distraction…

“Let me see what do we have here…” - He leaned even closer kneeling over her belly with one knee to hold her to the floor and reaching his hand to touch her chest where Laserbeak normally docked.

 _::Oh no you slagger, you will not touch me there, that’s *reserved*…::_ She did not move for a moment longer pretending she was petrified and when the hand touched her chest and his optics blurred slightly in a different focus, she reached her both arms up grasping him strongly by the throat blocking energon flow for a short instant and dragging him momentarily towards herself as she jolted with full force to the side throwing his leg off from her body and, releasing the grip suddenly, she kicked him strong with her both feet right into the midsection. The surprise gave her advantage enough to roll away from him and get up to her feet again with a strained leap. Her waist hurt as he was three times as heavy as her and she felt something was bent and bruised inside her, but this was not the time to bother. Her processor for the first time in the whole scene engaged in analysing escape strategies. There were not many. Or none. _::Holy frag::_ her reasonable thinking kicked in with a petrifying strength _::I am so screwed…::_

In the meantime he got up and looked at her from where he was standing. His face did not show anger anymore but even more perverse self-confidence and satisfaction.

“You’re so hot. No wonder he likes you. You can be fun.” - he took one step towards her direction looking as if he did not give a frag for her blasters extended towards him in a mute warning - “I am beginning to like this” - his glance swiped the Vehicon audience watching the show with amusement - “Come here and show me what more you have got”...

She fastened in her position assessing her strategies as he was approaching slowly towards her with a wide grin on his face. She made a slow step backwards to the side wall that was a few inches behind her.

“Getting scared?” - he taunted now with visible amusement. - “You should be. We can have some fun for a click or two, but you are genuinely doomed. See, this is my warship, my crew, and my decision what I will do with you… and I still need an asset for the swap, you see. You do not possibly think you can fight me here on equal footing...”

He was talking talking talking… She was just waiting and letting him talk as he was approaching closer and closer. Finally he was so close that he almost leaned above her with one hand stretched out reaching to touch her cheek with amusement. And then she struck again. Mocking a punch she disappeared from the reach of his hand with a well measured low kick just below the knee level cutting his balance. So she tricked him for the third time. He rumbled down to the ground with a decent clatter of the heavy armour, while she followed with a quick punch of her bladed fist cutting him across the shoulder and then again with a kick, pushing him away from herself before he managed to shake off the shock of her consecutive fierce attacks. His optics changed in one second from amused to angry again. He collected himself in no time and struck back. For real. She ducked one hit then she slid off just a nanometer from another but she did not manage to block the third one. It was just too strong and too heavy. He missed her head, but hit her shoulder with tremendous power bending her armour and tearing some energon lines inside as her arm twisted painfully out of the bearings. She stifled a cry, and tried to back out in a swift move, but it was too late. He grasped her by the throat and lifted up with the other hand in a triumphant gesture.

“You seriously believed you could win this? You should kneel in front of me like before a god. Don’t you know Unicron’s blood is flowing in my veins...” - he boasted with a steel voice, devoid of any residual amusement, now relaying real threat and menace. She felt as his fingers were strangling her but she still managed to release a weak but piercing voice:

“I … don’t need … Unicron … I have … Soundwave’s blood ... flowing … in … mine” - she choked out.

Megatron’s grip stiffened round her throat almost blocking any energon circulation as he pressed her to the wall so hard that she could not move anymore. Her feet were dangling a few inches over the landing deck floor but her eyes were still firm and fixed on him.

Suddenly a shiver of dread passed his backstrut cabling. There was something wrong with her eyes. They weren’t blue anymore. He met their gaze and felt almost compelled to look deep, deep inside the changing colour somewhere behind, deep in her head, as if something inside there was looking at him, in an unforgivable way… He pressed his claws even more, choking her and cutting through her neck armour but the vision of her eyes did not let go. They were changing… first into gleaming red and then… then he realized they were black. Black as a black hole, with black matter inside it, sucking him in deeper and deeper into the hidden singularity inside, a no-return centre of gravity… He pulled out from that look with an enormous effort regaining some distance equal to the length of his stretched arm, but then he saw something else. Her face was not a face anymore. He saw how her face plating was transforming, little bit by little bit, changing its form into something... he has already seen. The surface of her face was flaking off her cheeks, as if her coating was burning without fire, consumed by darkness, turning into ash, that kept peeling down uncovering the black fried wiring with no structure, no definition, entangled into something that was a semi-transparent nothingness gleaming a strange dead black matte anti-light from deep inside. There was no longer any eyes, blue or red, no mouth in a fierce grimace, there was nothing but just the haunting ghostly *something* that he was holding in his hand and that suddenly he felt smelting within his clenched fist infecting him and changing his hand into a burned down metal skeleton of dried hydraulics and fried protoflesh that disappeared peeling off from within the layers of his armoured finger plating...

Megatron did not recall ever this kind of a feeling that now grasped him and was shrinking his veins strangling them from within. He let her go dropping her to the ground taking a staggering step back, as the stifling feeling of strange inaudible sound waves and vibration reached under his armour down to his softest core, squeezing everything inside him, turning his circuits off one by one, with a very very low, incomprehensibly low sound frequency oscillating throughout his sensory system numbing it and reaching his consciousness, taking away feeling in his peripherals, shutting his circuits down one by one…

Then he just collapsed on the ground in front of the stunned half strangled Arcee who, freed from the deadly grip, dripping energon from the fresh wound, was collecting herself to attack him again. She grabbed his own laser gun in her still trembling hand and rose it slowly above his chest. But there was no need to. He did not move, knocked out completely into deep stasis. With a total amazement on her face she leaned slowly over the unconscious body of her adversary touching him with the tip of the weapon. Cautious not to get tricked she turned him over to the back with her foot still wielding the very heavy gun in her servo but nothing happened.

She raised her head and looked at the Vehicons crowded at the hatch of the landing deck and she almost physically felt their fear. Then, as if in slow motion she saw Shockwave raising his laser cannon and directing it right at her head.

* * *

  
Knowing already how to do it, it did not take much to localize the empty hole marking the Nemesis shielding for the second time, based on the previous position. Laserbeak relayed the freshest layout of the vessel to the mainframe and Soundwave recalculated the coordinates in just a couple of clicks, after Smokescreen landed back.

It was just enough to fire it off.

But nothing happened.

“What the hell?” - Ratchet hit the transmitter with his fist and tried to launch the machinery manually. Nothing happened again.

Soundwave reloaded the command, without effect. He ran quick diagnostics. They failed to execute at all. The thing was dead and unresponsive.

“Frag, frag, frag, the slagging scrap must have shortcircuited” - Ratchet swore loud across the hall.

Apart from Soundwave who still stood at the mainframe, all of them were now leaning over the groundbridge generator dismantling its cabling and getting in each other’s way trying to find the burned circuit and replace with whatever at hand.

A few more moments passed but they did not succeed. Bulkhead disappeared to the storage room for spare parts while the others grew nervous shouting at each other occasionally which did not really help. The slagging thing was fried as an overcharged cpu.

Soundwave looked back at the chaos in the hall. Smokescreen, forgotten by everyone and looking guilty, stepped aside a little seeing that too many hands stuck in one small hardware did not support anyone. Soundwave looked at him for a click and then pinged him through the commlink dragging his attention to the opsroom screen.

The screen displayed:

 _Arcee: Last relative location on Nemesis?_ showing the complex schematics of the warship. Smokescreen almost jumped up to the screen putting the pointer into the end of the deck.

Soundwave nodded and locked on to the pinpointed coordinates recalculating them based on the observed movement of the empty space of the shielded Nemesis. Then, he initiated the still malfunctioning, but the only operational groundbridge in the base.

His own.

* * *

  
“Drop it. The game is over” - Shockwave’s calm voice flowed through the rain across Nemesis deck. Arcee looked at him with a long gaze but did not drop the gun. Suddenly green light of a groundbridge flickered in the corner of her eye, only a few steps away. Her cyberninja instinct reacted without thinking. Her knees bent low and arms pushed down to the ground this time dropping the warlord’s gun. Ignoring the piercing pain in the torn shoulder she pushed herself powerfully away from the danger zone in a swift leap right into the flickering circle. The shot missed her just by millimeters frying the wall behind her previous location. But she was already teleporting through the flashy whirlwind of the groudbridge right into the safety of the Autobot base opsroom.

She fell in with an awful crash rolling over a couple of times and hitting herself against some machinery and furniture before the impetus smashed her on the wall at the other side of the room. The groundbridge closed behind her as she was panting heavily lying on the floor holding herself by her injured arm hinges twisted into a weird position.

“Smokescreen, you’re alright...” - she managed to utter from her throttled voicebox looking frantically around trying to understand where she found herself so suddenly.

Smokescreen ran towards her in a few big jumps. He kneeled next to her looking at her, anxious and apologetic. But she just raised her optics up to the dark winged figure that stepped slowly, with a visible effort, down the little stairs of the mainframe terminal.

“Soundwave” - she whispered in a hoarse voice - “I’m sorry I sabotaged the plan… but I…”.

With Smokescreen’s help she collected herself from the ground, still holding the twisted arm she went up to him stopping right in front for a short click.

“...I just couldn’t let you go”

Then she threw herself into him, casting her healthy arm around him pressing her helm to his chest feeling as he embraced her strongly with both wings in infinite relief, cuddling his head between her helm and her shoulder and gently stroking her rain-wet frame. ~/Forgive me, Arcee/~ she felt it flowing ~/Forgive me, my bravest warrior/~ ... ~/Forgive me, my spark/~ … ~/I will never ever leave you again.../~

The others, busy with the groundbridge in the hall, at first did not realize what happened. But hearing the rumble in the opsroom they ran up finally to see inside through the open door. And then they saw them both: just standing there, tight together, holding on to each other as if the world ended and nothing else existed.

“Arcee’s back” - Smokescreen broke the momentary silence with the widest of smiles and an excited voice - “And I owe her one… Shall we get some highgrade to celebrate?”


	16. Erase

Megatron stormed to Shockwave’s lab without announcing himself or pinging at the door.

“Shockwave” - the warlord’s voice sounded heavy and rusty. - “I want you to delete this madness from me.”

Shockwave looked up surprised at the big grey mech from over his desk of predacon bones.

“My Liege. Delete what exactly?”

“I want you to delete Soundwave”

“This would require a concerted military operation against the Autobots, and I believe they know our tactics very well”

Megatron frowned but he kept his patience.

“I want you to delete Soundwave from *myself*” - he explained - “I know you have these brain surgery protocols, the cortical psychic patch and other scrap you’ve been using on your mecha. It worked, didn’t it? You even tested it on yourself”

Shockwave’s optics enlarged slightly when he was analysing the warlords words.

“He keeps me from thinking clear” - Megatron added.

Shockwave nodded his one-eyed head very slowly looking at him attentively. - “Isn’t there another way?” - he asked - “This operation is more complex than you may be thinking, my Liege, and it may bring unexpected results. You may change… Wouldn’t it be just safer to forget about him?”

“I want him erased!!” - Megatron almost shouted at Shockwave in an unexpected outburst leaning closer to the scientist and grabbing his own head with his servos as if something hurt him inside. - “You don’t understand…” - he added in a calmer voice. - “How can you understand…”

“With all due respect, Sir, it is impossible to delete just Soundwave alone. He must be deeply embedded in your system as you are strongly attached to this idea. It would require deleting all your emotional structures in order that your reactions could be based on pure logic and analysis, without unnecessary distractions, such as your feelings for your former communications officer... ”

Megatron almost jumped at Shockwave, his field flickering in fierce colours of anger and desperation.

“What feelings, feelings, feelings are for the weak, I don’t have any feelings… I want him to obey me, to give in to me, to look up to me... to be my...”

Shockwave seemed undisturbed by the raging fury although he kept his blaster charged just in case, but he didn’t let himself be interrupted - “your feelings of guilt, grief, desire, anger, jealousy and loss over the one you endowed with your love which you failed to recognize and accept.” - he calmly watched how the warlord stiffened and almost started changing his facial hue at the sound of the dreaded word - “I did research on the topic and I can make a fairly good diagnosis judging from your symptoms…”

“Nonsense! What do you mean diagnosis, I want him out, away, gone from my head, whatever it takes, even if you have to delete everything…” - Megatron shouted, squeezing his helm in his hands even harder. - “I cannot do anything when these shadows are chasing me…”

Shockwave searched through his databases refreshed significantly on this issue recently - “Emotions are an important skill that makes us what we are.” - he preached as from a book - “They provide capabilities to empathise and understand other beings, predict, anticipate and steer their actions. They make you a leader, they allow you to bring forward your cause in a convincing way…”

“Stop bullshitting me Shockwave, you are doing well without them, as Soundwave did before he recovered them…”

Shockwave shook his head but did not comment. He did not fully understand what exactly happened to Soundwave, but certainly there was no protocol to recover the once deleted emotions. In his analysis Soundwave must have developed a whole new set, or he never fully deleted them in the first place and had them hidden somewhere inside him in a memory bit that activated unexpectedly based on some strong impulse. He secretly wished to investigate this very interesting phenomenon which had a great scientific potential and could push his research into a whole new fascinating direction. Himself, he was neither totally devoid of emotion, he kept basic instincts and some empathy while the deletion pertained only to the higher levels of engagement. He felt alright with it, but it was something he could do only with himself knowing himself best of all. When it came to others, he could delete only the whole package, as it was, and still it required a long-lasting, delicate intervention preceded with obtaining the full knowledge of the patient’s emotional and intellectual core, not to dismantle the whole being and personality of the one in question.

“It would require me to fully understand your nature and would take an in-depth mind reading with the cortical psychic patch. There are high risks of you losing your current personality and of irreversible changes to your perception, views and self-consciousness. It may mean you will stop being yourself inside and become someone else” - he explained calmly.

“Whatever…” - Megatron looked at him with a mad blind fire in his optics.

“It seems to be an *emotional* decision…” - Shockwave brilliantly backed out from the trajectory of Megatron’s fist and predicting three moves ahead he placed himself in a safe position with a swiftness of a cat. As heavy and tank-like he was, he could react with surprising lightness when necessary. Megatron staggered heavily from the impetus of the strike and almost fell to the floor, supporting himself on Shockwave’s desk, smashing some precious Predacon bone material with a nasty crackle. In the meantime Shockwave continued - “don’t you want to think it over just to make sure if this is your final assessment?”

“You think you are so superior with your *logic*” - Megatron hissed through his rusted voicebox - “you think you can decide, oppose, disobey me with your analysis... I will smash your logic to pieces like those mirror bits, I will thrust it to the end of the universe, to Unicron himself…” - he hurled himself at the scientist missing tremendously the second time, while his massive blaster charged with heavy electricity at the same time - “You think you can....” - he didn’t finish the sentence as something clicked loudly behind him when Shockwave, who miraculously turned up right at his back, plugged a small device in Megatron’s hidden neck data port breaking easily some delicate armour plating shielding it. Megatron collapsed in the middle of his movement, falling into the ground with a heavy crash, while his blaster shot aimlessly into the wall on the other side of the laboratory making a deep steaming wound in the cellular structures of Nemesis.

Shockwave stood still for a couple of clicks watching the Decepticon leader lying now helpless and powered down on the ground. Then he moved in his heavy manner towards his friend and boss, lifted his heavy body with some effort, and brought slowly across the corridor to KnockOut’s surgery.

“Put him on auxiliary circulation for now” - he ordered the surprised KnockOut glaring at him with large optics. - “We need a break from this madness, and he needs some rest. We cannot allow this irrational situation jeopardise our objectives. I have taken charge for now, on his behalf. Make sure he is well but don’t wake him up.”

With these words Shockwave cautiously placed the heavy body on the medberth. Then he looked at the leader for a longer moment of silence. Then he stroke softly the limp arm and hand of the large grey powered down mech with unexpected care and added - “He really needs some peace right now.”

And with this he left the room with startled KnockOut inside, still not knowing what to say.

* * *

  
  
Shockwave was standing on the Nemesis bridge looking at all the crew gathered around him. Starscream with a few of his remaining clones, KnockOut and a numerous group of Vehicons and Insecticons were gaping at him with optics wide open.

He made his announcement in short words.

“Your leader, Great Lord Megatron, is unwell and he requires some important fixes. I take temporary command in his replacement.” - he cast a long look at Starscream who however remained silent.

“We are leaving for New Kaon for repairs. You have 30 orns to complete fueling and supply for the journey. Understood?” - He looked around again with his single eye meeting a heavy, overloading silence. - “No questions? Thank you.”

Unexpectedly even for himself, KnockOut, touched by an abrupt impulse, stepped out.

“May I ask permission to stay... on Earth?”

All the silence suddenly focused at him almost making him withdraw to the back and swallow his words. Starscream almost jolted towards KnockOut with open mouth drawing the words _YOU TRAITOR_ up in the air, but frozen by Shockwave’s calm look, he muted it when the sound waves were just on the way out of his voice box.

Shockwave did not even blink. He looked up and down at the medic with some interested attention.

“Affirmative” - he replied in a flat voice without any emotion or further questions. - “You may take what you need and groundbridge to a location of your own choice on the last day before departure. Until then make sure our Lord is attended to and prepared for the journey. Starscream, you remain second in command and will coordinate energon mining for the wrap engines. Anyone else has last wishes?”

Silence was even deeper, not a vent of air could be heard in the suddenly muted cooling systems of all on the bridge.

“Thank you. Commence preparations now.”

Leaving the bridge he stopped by KnockOut for a moment.

~”Don’t do anything stupid”~ he commed on a private channel ~”I will be awaiting a good report once we’re back”~

And then in slow, heavy steps he went out to the corridor leaving the stunned KnockOut and busy Starscream already commanding the Vehicons regarding organisational details.


	17. In the Sunshine

Arcee was lying in the sun on top of an unreachable rock shelf, high in the mountains, of which she could only dream in the past. Contemplating the experience of the flight, she still felt the dizziness, the wind in her frame, the lightness of space around her. It was… just perfect joy.

She watched the big world from the sky-top distance while the early midday sun was caressing her newly grown sleek wings. They itched slightly and they still felt a little strange but now she was able to transform into a flying form and it was all that mattered. 

It looked so easy from the outside to run fast and not stop at the verge of the rocks but just jump into the infinite space and transform in a fluent sequence into a seeker without losing any altitude. Flip the shiny metal plates over, regroup the individual parts through the newly coded cycle, in a blink of an eye to become smooth and even again, to revert the senses to catch the different type of balance, to shift the engine power into thrusters and fire off in a matter of a nanoclick… But it was far from easy. It took time for her skills and instincts to build up at least to the necessary minimum to handle the flight. She was working hard and training almost everyday if only it was considered safe to be out, masking her life signal from the Cons. 

More than once Soundwave had to save her from almost crashing down to the ground, especially when she learned some more and felt greater confidence in her wings. It tempted her to try out things, to push the limits… The immense joy of flying that she felt. It was worth anything. 

She did not complain once at all of the discomfort, risk and deformity that came along with the protoflesh cell-core reprogramming. It grounded her for real for a couple of weeks, feeling painful and looking awful, as her body was regrouping the protometal into a new form and new transformation protocols. At some points she couldn’t even move and was bound to bed recovering under strict observation from Ratchet, tolerant eye of Optimus, friendly encouragement from Bumblebee, Smokescreen and Bulkhead, and constant attention of Soundwave who now it turn did patiently his chores around her in reverse of their roles to when he was recovering, hardly ever at all leaving her alone.

He downloaded tonnes of books and stories for her from the Internet, some of which he pirated in secret from Optimus and full approval from the amused Smokescreen and Bumblebee, who got their share of video games. He sat with her long hours filling her painful time with his enormous calm and rational patience, going through these books with her, laboriously trying to understand and learn anew what years of experience saved or deprived him. She admired that inner peace and perseverance which turned out to be something of his real nature and not just a residue of past emotional amputation. 

It took some orns before the body modification took substantial effect and she could transform into anything again. And this anything was a jet… a beautiful smooth slender seeker with the classical genes which Soundwave somehow miraculously discovered inside her own protoflesh cells. Inheritance from an unknown ancestor who must have been a seeker eons ago, when she was forged.  _ ~/Forged of love/ _ ~ as Soundwave told her a couple of times. He was so convinced about that. She had no idea if she had any real parents and who that might be. It was rare on Cybertron, but it happened sometimes. Maybe 10% of the population had some sort of “biological” parents, who, gender irrespectively, were able to bond strongly enough to create a new spark out of their own ones, forge a little sparkling that similarly to organics on Earth carried their mixed coding, and was different from anyone else - not just another incarnation of an Allspark fragment like Soundwave deemed himself to be, or massproduced CNA of those cold-constructed like the Vehicons. Those who had actual ancestors had a chance to be unique. One of a kind. So when Soundwave found the genetics of a seeker in her, he was enchanted. 

It became clear to him that her dream of flying could have been a genetic memory of a former generation. He wouldn’t stop digging for what he wanted dearly to be true - Arcee was forged of love… between a grounder and a seeker. Love, that now he was carrying with her, the love that *must* have stood behind everything. He hugged her head to his chest when they were alone, and these words just circulated all around. ~/You can fly if you want. You’ve got everything in you/~

Somehow they managed to get Ratchet to cooperate in this medical experiment. To permanently transform a grounder form, a two-wheeler at that, into a flying frame, that was not heard of in the world as they knew it today. But the full rationality and perfect logic of Soundwave’s discovery, his knowledge of some past cases and fierce determination on Arcee’s side, won the case. So they did it. 

Soundwave never discussed or even mentioned one other thing he understood after some time living in the base. But in his newly acquired world of colour he saw, more clearly than anyone, the one who stood in the shadow. The one, whose EM field was more restraint than even his own and whose reason and rationality blended with profound, hidden loneliness and melancholy, casting shades of deep buried pain from very, very long ago. 

Not sure of his own measurement of appropriateness, Soundwave decided to do what his spark told him instead of his logic. Before he shared his genetic discovery with anyone, including explaining any details to Arcee herself, deep in the dark of night he pinged at the third door to the right of Arcee’s room. The door rolled up silently revealing much bigger a shadow standing in the darkness behind. The two mecha faced each other for a moment. Finally the owner of the room stepped back letting the slender winged shadow inside and showing a seat without a word.

They did not need light, both well equipped for the night. They sat in silence for some time gazing at each other from deep behind their optics. Finally Soundwave broke the silence with his monotone audio voice, which he detested so much.

“ _ I wanted to thank you Optimus.”  _ he said and then he reverted to opening a private comm channel ~“I appreciate your hospitality and trust more than you imagine.You could have done away with me in a nanoclick and never worry again”~

Optimus nodded in silence. And then after a pause he replied.

~”What good would it make? Let’s say I trusted Arcee’s instincts. And so you proved yourself worthy. I made a half-reasonable assumption you would not want to disappoint her”~

Soundwave lowered his head slightly. He never did this before and it cost a slight bit of his pride, but compared to what took place in his past life serving Megatron on Nemesis this was negligible. And it tasted… maturity. He looked back at the big calm mech in front of him.

~”I deeply considered what I should do. You understand I will not rejoin the Cons. I theoretically could leave and join the neutral party stranded away across some rodent holes of the old galaxy alone or with others like me who may have still survived. Most of all however I want to stay with the one I love. I could make myself… purposeful this way”~

~”I know. I noticed your ...silent accord. I do not even ask what else this... symbiosis you two have can do”~

Soundwave bent his head a little down but still looking at Optimus.

~”I would like to ask your permission… your *blessing* to stay as long as she wants me to”~ the thin wings twitched a little as he commed it. 

So it happened, he did it. He asked. It was not that horrible after all. 

The two mecha, almost older than this planet, looked at each other in silence for a few clicks as their fields met again. To Soundwave’s surprise a deep hint of respect waved across the feelings of Optimus who for some reason did not seem to hide or restrain his emotional signals in this darkness filled room. There was no power or domination in there, on the contrary, he radiated gratitude and esteem for humility. This kind of respect, which had nothing to do with fear, was not what Soundwave knew too well from his life on Nemesis. And especially for anything like this.

He felt as his own field replied with similar emotion. Steady and authentic. He straightened up a bit and raised his head.

Optimus nodded slowly. He looked very tired and worn out in the shades of night vision.

~”You have it… You have my blessing ever since I trusted you first. I was watching you too, and I know your story. I also think I’ve seen who you are now. And how you make her happy.”~ he leaned a little forward towards Soundwave looking straight into the optics hidden behind the visor. ~”I actually appreciate your decision not to leave her. She would follow you anyway. You need to understand how much she matters to me”~ 

~”I can understand now… what it means  _ important _ .”~ Soundwave replied seriously ~”Was her… *other* creator a seeker?”~ he asked the other question with a calm and steady field, no nosy curiosity, just a fact based question. 

~”Her ...mother… was a mixture”~ Optimus did not seem surprised at all only looking at Soundwave with some more interest and esteem ~”of a seeker and an explorer mech like you, that makes Arcee have a very special inheritance, as you noticed already. It seems some things show better in the second generation...”~

Soundwave thought of that a couple of times too. He nodded slowly marking his confirmation. 

~”She dreams of flying.”~ he started slowly ~”And she has got the genes. They are recessive but can be extracted and activated so it is technically possible”~

~”If she really wants it, if you are sure it is safe and Ratchet clears it… She may fly if that makes her happy”~

Soundwave smiled behind the mask. They sat in silence a longer time, the two fields flickering on the verges of each other.

~”She doesn’t know where she comes from. None of them knows. Almost...”~ Optimus said finally ventilating a sigh. ~”I believed it would be safer this way. Her mother is long gone and myself...”~

~”I understand. Although I would consider telling her at some point if I were you.”~

Optimus spared it some thought and he neither rejected nor confirmed the idea.

~”Perhaps…”~ …. ~”How old are you Soundwave… eventually?”~

~”I am the youngest of the old”~ he smiled putting a riddle together ~”You had me on the table open like a book, you must have seen it, my core flesh is filled with crystallic memory and I function a bit ...different… we, my kind, are almost extinct. But Ratchet managed well…”~

~”He is not young either… He learnt a lot about you from his deepest almost forgotten data banks… and from Laserbeak”~ they both looked up as the silent avian glided lightly from the ceiling perch straight to Soundwave’s lap, who patted his silvery darkblue plating a little while the bird was finding a comfortable position to seat himself.

~/Laserbeak.../~ Soundwave embraced the little friend with the warmest of fields while his hand gilded softly over the bird’s head and back in a caressing touch.

Optimus saw that shade of warmth too and smiled a very little soft smile to himself. He still was not sure where this was leading to but the world was too small and they were too few to leave anything important unattended...

It was a long night that marked another change in the atmosphere of the base. A quiet one but bringing back light and removing any remnants of thickness from the air. The two mecha kept talking until the morning, when Arcee, having woken up alone at sunrise, went out to the corridor and found them both still immersed in the communication now in the living room with some morning energon in hand. Unnoticed she backed out to bed again and fell in further recharge with a blissful feeling of relief, to be woken up much later by a gentle kiss and warmth of a familiar body.

~/I think I figured out how to make you fly/~ she felt his mute message flowing through her head very softly while the sun licked her face through the ceiling window of the abandoned Earth factory that she learned to call home.

* * *

  
So now she was cured and learning to fly. The transformation went smoothly and her body was reliable again. It was the soul that trespassed the limits of the sky, when the two of them, or sometimes three with Laserbeak together, cut the air with enormous speed in a flying dance of air creatures who own the world below them. The feeling of wind in the wings and the stunning views were addictive and she could not take her eyes of them. Then tired after hours of crazy flying they landed somewhere unreacheable to enjoy the beauty of their temporary confinement, the Earth.

Now, lying in the midday sun on a perch up in the mountains, she rested her limbs on the warm rocks and lazily admired the distant view in front of her. Bathing in the sun she closed her optics just leaving narrow openings that made everything a little blurry. She turned deeper sensing on while she stretched comfortably leaning a little against Soundwave relaxing at her side. 

The sun caressed her and so did he. An almost fully recovered tentacle spiraled round her waist pushing itself between her belly and the ground. Then it meandered slowly circling her hips and lazily sneaking down her thigh. He casually stopped it here and there at her softly reacting micro sensory nodes about which he was the only one ever to know. As he played with their sensitivity, she purred lightly in pleasure, arching a little towards him, not able to resist the caress, but without rushing it. 

They had all the time in the world and she could allow herself to accumulate tension of warmth-diluted hydraulics accompanied by the humming of the cooling systems as he let his wing wander gently along her spine and her young sensitive seeker wings indulging in tiny electric circuits swaying them both into patient lust of creatures who are somewhere in between still being strangers and already knowing each other all too deep and well... The more hungry they were foretasting everything that awaited them, the more they were portioning it to smallest bits, to feel each and every bite of the incoming treat, teasing each other with slow pace and caring touches. 

No-one could destroy this now. He cuddled his face into her neck and sought her core energon cable hidden behind the elegant armoury, feeling how little bits of her plating reacted at the touch of his naked face skin and the intense pulsation in the lifegiving veins was just millimeters away from his sensors. He smelled her sun heated metal, inhaled her air and recorded all the microparticles in his deepest primordial crystallic memory where it could never be deleted. Then he backed out a little placing his head on the ground near her, facing her forehead-to-forehead and letting their eyes sink into each other and the adjacent surfaces interact delicately.

The sun reflected in their metal chassis while he felt how energon in her thigh pulsed under his tentacle’s grip. He lazily extracted some nano-connectivity tendrils from the data cable’s very end and sneaked them in under her inner thigh plating to steal some of her sensations while she moaned quietly pressing her forehead stronger into his as he connected. She rubbed like a cat letting the small electricity charges in and shutting down her firewalls to let him feel her pleasure, which she flavoured with some more teasing desire as her hand went travelling across his scarred chest towards his slim belly seeking into the other tentacle’s housing, tickling it lightly with her fingertips for a moment, then withdrawing when it pulsed up. Now it was his time to moan as he felt the warm longing of her body through their connection and the way her tissues shrunk and swelled delicately in waves of physical arousal. He ventilated deeper trying not to pull her immediately to himself and instantly start the immersion. He stroke her cheek with a wingtip and let the other tentacle tip extract and grip her hand delicately begging for a caress. And so she played with it segment by segment, in the sun, while he was sharing his satisfaction and pleasure through the bond. They let time pass freely while they immersed really slowly into each other, nerve by nerve, without chaotic drowning but with full sensory concentration and deep consciousness of the contact. It took much longer until the main data ports clicked open to commence the major transmission. Their adjacent surfaces melted together already since hours allowed for a peaceful calm and fulfilling transfer without hunger-stricken compulsiveness. 

Hand in hand they let each other in, to the good and bad parts of the soul, learning of each other again and again, uncovering their memories, dreams and deeper sensations. They sought each other inside the depths of mind, not to hack in but to explore themselves together in the strongest of unifications a cyber-mechanical creature can experience. Her wings twitched a little unconsciously when the sparks of their melted together bodies finally bound to each other through bright light plasma threads that became strong ropes and then turned to a fully connected interface blending their life powers and energy into one circulation, bonding them again and again, feeding their symbiosis and addiction to each other. Their bodies arched in synchronisation of the pleasure that ran through all their cells and particles. Their processors registered surges as their mental incarnations felt as one fulfilled creature composed of two perfectly intertwined beings. The sun was already setting when the surge passed finally and they slowly desynced back to their individualities, still full of each other’s emotions and residues of immense gratification. 

Deep in their minds they knew they were now addicted, that each act of such bonding made them more and more indispensable to each other, condemning them to starvation and unfulfillment when apart; that they would now have to be together, as symbionts and twins feeding of each-other’s sparks, circulating the same energon and healing one-another’s wounds. They were bound to bear each-other’s differences, tempers, ambitions, strengths and weaknesses, conflicts, burdens, pain and pleasure all the same. And the future that remained multithreaded and unknown, beyond any probability calculus. An exigent and consequential decision that none of them regretted at the moment, wrapped in the hope of a better life.

They were still sitting there leaning at each other when it got dark and the moon rose up the sky shining at them with a silvery cold of the falling night. They tucked into each other for warmth. Some time ago she commed the base with a white lie not to worry as her flight lessons prolonged. But slowly it was time to move on. Reluctant to go though, they looked out to the evening world together, exhausted, happy and still a bit overwhelmed. 

He couldn't help but to smile all that time. Tiny little connections continued to run between them and he still had a tentacle bit around her waist and a wing embracing her to keep her warm. They did not really have to communicate verbally. They knew things now, they understood. Occasionally they glanced at each other, and when they did, they smiled both compulsively, still not being able to believe.

~/You saved my *real* life/~ he expressed finally using words for strengthening the meaning and giving it a shape. ~/I will never fully understand how all this was possible/~

~/Maybe because you showed me who you really were in that blink of a shock back in the cave. Before you yourself realized… /~ she smiled and silenced for a longer click ~/I think you owe your life to yourself. I was just there to support at times/~ She smiled again as he kissed her forehead very gently. After another moment of silence she wondered ~/Was organicon there for real? Did you find any?/~

~/I found *you*…/~ he smiled pulling her a little closer. ~/...and I think I do not care for organicon the slightest bit/~ 

They were sitting in thoughtful silence as the dark blue-black sky spread above them with abstract patterns of stars in the distance, colourful fractals of all shades beyond the spectrum of visual recognition. She thought for a moment that this night sky was just like his face, dark, profound and infinite. She glanced up to him and observed him in wonder, understanding how in fact he almost did not discern from the patterns above him. He *was* the sky and she could see galaxies deep down inside him. Only his eyes were gleaming red with their most beautiful infinite clockwork inside them. But he was also close, tangible and warm. And real... 

A control signal pinged them from the base asking for a security status report. They never felt really safe on Earth, and it was hard to blame Optimus for his caring cautiousness.

~/… perhaps we should get going/~ she said slowly checking the time with a hint of regret.

~/It’s so good. Five more minutes/~ he sent her another smile.

~/Will you hold me at night?/~ 

~/I will never let you go/~ 


	18. Longing for Solace

KnockOut was driving slowly across the desert. Lonely, dirty and covered in dust. Although normally he would never pick an offroad drive fearing his beautiful finish to be damaged, for some reason now he felt like keeping away from life. Actually he felt like he had never felt before. Like a stranded castaway on a desert island… Like in a place he has never been to before, although he stepped on this Earth so many times before. But now he was not representing the powerful conquerors that posed threat to the local population. He was alien and alone, without any backup, a strange animal taken out from its habitat, from the safety of the known. 

He was in no hurry. He had nowhere to go. He had no other purpose, but to think. As a matter of fact, he was free. He had the sort of insecure freedom that he never had before. Of course he had to cater for his energy needs but somehow he was not worried about it at the moment. He was just drunk with his feeling of freedom and enjoyed it discovering newer and newer aspects of this peculiar state of mind.

So he spent half of the day just sitting in robot mode leaned against a rock and letting the sun warm him. Lazy and undecided what to do next he was looking with clear optics into the empty sky, absorbing the emptiness and planless freedom feeling that he suddenly acquired. For the first time since long he just *experienced* the rays of the Earth sun the way he never did before. Just for the sheer pleasure of it. And while he was sitting like this observing the blue infinity spreading above him, he saw something. Just a glimpse in a corner of his optic, in the line between him and the shining, he saw two jets in a distance dancing together, making incredible acrobatics in the air that no human creation could endure. He looked a bit closer zooming in his sensors and recognized a beautiful sleek silvery-blue classic seeker and a slender dark-navy-blue predator flying wing to wing, almost touching each other in a speed that would qualify them to crash easily if they were just mindless human machines. 

And then he heard quiet cawing chatter next to him on his right hand side. Distracted, he dropped the aircrafts from his vision and looked to the source of the strange, familiar sound. Not more than ten meters away, Laserbeak was playing joyfully, flying up and down, throwing little stones on the ground and looking amused how they fell making little holes and patterns in the sand. 

“Hey, what are you doing here, little one?” - he whispered to the bird, enchanted. Then he looked in amusement for a longer click not being able to take his optics of the avian. When he finally looked back at the sky, the two seekers were gone. He searched for them a longer while but could not locate them anymore. He sighed heavily and looked back at Laserbeak. The bird tilted his head a bit as if he wanted to say something. Then he approached KnockOut with little jumps, and winked at him with one of his crimson optics. The young medic reached out his hand and Laserbeak took a bit up to the air and carefully placed a little piece of rock on the open palm of the red mech. Then he blinked again and flew up looking back at the medic. Then he just flew off. KnockOut got up and without transforming to the car mode, he walked slowly in the direction where the bird disappeared squeezing the stone tight in his hand.

* * *

  
In the meantime Nemesis cast a last look at them as the warp-speed acceleration increased the distance in a blink of an eye, leaving the Earth far behind. A little sting of jealousy cut through her massive sparked power core. But the peace of finding her dear ones happy made her eventually comfortable. Deep inside her very soft large processor network she knew that now the fate has fulfilled for those former enemy sparks and her greater aims were closer by the minute… or by the eon. She was good with it and gave them her blessing, while she moved swiftly across the empty space carrying her deadly load in a dream of peace and freedom and home.

**~The end~**


	19. ..::Notes and Glossary::..

******The story is mostly located in Transformers Prime (TFP) Universum. Mostly. Some terms and ideas are taken from Generation 1 (G1), the Animated Series 2007, Combiner Wars, Transformers Armada, Transformers Energon.**

**I mix some things (eg. the base location is from TF Animated), simplify some other. With a purpose. In the end, it is a dream world.**

**The definitions explain terms used in this story the way I need the reader to understand them to get the full picture. They are not always fully accurate with all lores. This is not Wikipedia :D  
**

* * *

******Special recognition to:**  
  
\- [HopeofDawn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopeofDawn/pseuds/HopeofDawn) and [fractalserpentine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fractalserpentine/pseuds/fractalserpentine) for the carrier/symbiont terminology, special insight to possible depths of the carrier/symbiont relationship as well as the value of memory older than the Earth. My full recommendation for their outstanding series "[Sound and Fury](https://archiveofourown.org/series/16532)".  
  
\- [MrMoMMusic ](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCJBpeNOjvbn9rRte3w_Kklg) and [Tim Bryant](https://www.youtube.com/c/TimBryantMusic?gvnc=1) who most likely will never know about it but their Melodic Dubstep Mixes keep echoing with magic between the lines of the story if you listen very carefully... 

* * *

**_How to read ways of communication:_ **

**“Normal text in inverted commas”** \- normal speaking

 **~”Tyldas and inverted commas”~** commlink/virtual communication (using communicators/external means)

 **~/Tyldas and slashes/~** internal bond transfers, relayed by thoughts chosen to be understood by the one “speaking”

 **_::Italics with colons::_ ** thoughts

When quoting **algorithms or database content** , please do not expect any fully fledged/correct script, I had to simplify for the sake of understandability for normal readers who are not nerds :D

* * *

**_Time measurements:_ **

**Click/Nanoclick** = a short moment

 **Orn** = ~1 day/planetary cycle (the period of time during which a planet /in our case Earth/ completes one full rotation)

 **Vorn** = ~83 years (or just around a century, who cares how much it is precisely)

 **Eon** = division of time encompassing a full geological cycle of a planet = very very long, the whole history of Earth is a few eons in fact

* * *

**_Other terms (alphabetically):_ **

**Allspark** = An artefact of Primus, a source of sparks, capable of creating new life by introducing a spark into eg. a cold constructed body.

 **Backstrut** = spine

 **Carrier** = a very rare type of a bot that is able to carry a **symbiont** , a smaller, animal-like bot that he/she coexists with and can use for different tasks as an extension of his/her skills and abilities. Carriers care for symbionts, feed and heal them, they are indispensable for symbionts to live. However carriers and symbionts are separate beings and they have their own minds, by which they can communicate very closely. They are not one and the same person. In our case Soundwave is a carrier to Laserbeak.

It should not be confused with “pregnant” as can be found in some other stories. Not here :)

 **CNA** = DNA equivalent, genetic code of Cybertronians

 **Cold construction** = artificial way of creation of bots that are built and later implanted artificially with a bit of spark (can be someone else's). Cold constructed bots could be less sentient and more “robotic” in comparison to the forged ones. Many Decepticons were constructed cold. At least in some versions of the universe.

 **Comms** = communications

 **Cons** = short for Decepticons

 **Cortical Psychic Patch** = a procedure/protocol/tool for reading someone else’s mind via special connection allowing to access the depth of the victim’s memory. It was developed by Shockwave in the beginning of the the Great War, but banned by Autobots as “inhumane”.

 **Dark Energon (also: Unicron’s Blood)** = inverted destructive version of Energon, a powerful drug giving great strength and abilities to its bearer but also corrupting the judgement by turning its user to serve Unicron’s greater (evil) aims.

 **EM field (also: field)** = electromagnetic field around a bot, everybody has that, even humans. Similarly to the facial expression or body language, it may give indication of feelings and mood of a person. It can be controlled to some extent through training and self-discipline.

 **Energon** **(also: blood)** = the life giving/nurturing substance -  in nature it takes a form of dried crystals, but inside the body resembles some sort of blood and functions similarly to blood. Too much loss of it means the spark may get extinguished = death

 **ETR** \- estimated time of recovery

 **Femme** = a female bot (just a conventional designation referring to sort of a gender only as they do not have humanly understood physical sexes and eventually it doesn't matter too much on everyday basis)

 **Forged** = (way of birth of a Cybertronian) - naturally created of an energy pulse (from the Allspark or Vector Sigma depending on the universe version) that ignited (randomly as I presume) a hot spot in Cybertron where new sparks would emerge from the planet's matter - it implies creation of sentient beings with feelings and souls, analogue to those that Earth people have. Most Autobots were forged (some of them allegedly born of a relationship or spark duplication but this is too mysterious to get into exactly what it means ^^)

 **Frag, slag (and forms thereof)** = swear words :) Translate to what you like and feel inappropriate enough

 **Groundbridge** = the main teleporting method for short distances used by Transformers (vs. space bridge for interstellar travel) - normally executed with complex devices, but Soundwave mastered it as his skill and he is the only one that can do it with his bare hands ;) without additional external equipment. Like a couple of other things that he can also do and nobody knows exactly how.

 **Grounder** = a bot with ground-based alternative mode

 **Highgrade** = type of Energon that works the same as alcohol for humans :)

 **Mech** = a male bot (just a conventional designation referring to sort of a gender only as they do not have humanly understood physical sexes and eventually it doesn't matter too much on everyday basis)

 **Nemesis** = Decepticon warship orbiting Earth, where everybody sits and gets bored planning new evil plans. *Nothing* to do with Nemesis Prime. Contrary to the original in TFP, Nemesis in my story is female. It just felt better this way.

 **Offline** = unconscious (can be also through sleeping). It does *not* mean dead. For dead I use "dead" :) That is not exactly in line with some cartoons, but it was confusing in my opinion otherwise.

 **Organicon** = the mysterious substance they were looking for, I totally made it up.

 **Peds** = legs, feet

 **Phaseshifter** = a tool that allows crossing through objects by altering the quantum nature of the matter of which they are constructed :). It is an example of a **relic**.

 **Predacons** = semi animalistic, very powerful intelligent Cybertronians, whose main form was that of a dragon, but they could also transform to humanoid. They are extinct but Shockwave tries to revive them by extracting CNA from their bones and cloning it.

 **Primus** = a god figure that is used mainly as figure of speech, but in fact there exists a person called Primus of a semi-godly nature of a primal creator. He can be also understood as the main force of nature (a force of good and construction, as opposed to the evil Unicron, force of destruction).

 **Protoflesh/protometal** = the core substance embedding mechanical and functional parts of a bot, sort of a flesh, which holds things together, can feel and move, and most importantly that contains self-repair mechanisms and out of which the new components can be created in case of damage.

 **Recharge (also: powerdown)** = sleep... sort of.

 **Relics** = special weapons and powerful objects casted across the world, both Autobots and Decepticons are desperately looking for them, to gain advantages over the other fraction and also in Autobots’ case to secure them from irresponsible use. Phaseshifter is an example of a relic.

 **Seeker** = a bot with airborne alternative mode

 **Servos** = hands/arms

 **Shadow zone** = a location hanged outside the natural dimensions where one can land accidently as a result of failed teleportation when two groundbridges interact. In reality it is a painful glitch of reality - someone trapped there can hear and see everything but cannot touch it, he is like a ghost and nobody realizes his existence. He can be saved only from the outside by reversing the groundbridge configuration, but for they would need to know their location and existence as such. So basically it is really screwed up to end up there.

 **Spark** = the heart and the soul. The life force of all Cybertronians. Can be in a form of a crystal or a crystallic light/energy glow structure. Residing inside the body, usually the chest.

 **Sparked** = born, alive, having a spark

 **Sparkling** = child or baby

 **Stasis (even worse: stasis lock)** = deep unconsciousness, coma

 **Symbiont (also: familiar)** = a smaller, animal-like bot fully dependant on its carrier due to the needs of nutrition and survival, as it cannot feed or heal by itself, and has to use the system of its carrier for that. Symbionts are also very attached to their carriers and do not change them too often although theoretically it is possible. Both carriers and symbionts are separate beings and they have their own minds, by which they can communicate very closely.

 **Tentacles (also: datacables, feelers)** = a tool that Soundwave has as part of his equipment or in fact very strong and sensitive limbs of his body that nobody else has - they look like quite long extendible cables with hydraulics inside and all in it allowing both to lift stuff and connect to data interfaces. Multifunctional, they do not only transmit data but are also capable of complex manual operations, including surgery through their multitool endings equipped with super-thin connectivity tendrils. They extend from the sides just above his waist and below the chest armour.

 **Unicron** = a satan figure, the god of destruction (the opposite force to Primus). He manipulates through promises of power and dominance. He is the source of dark energon, called also Unicron’s blood, a powerful drug giving great strength but also corrupting the judgement by turning its user to serve Unicron’s greater aims.

 **Vehicons** = mass constructed Decepticon soldiers (cannon fodder).

* * *

 


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	21. .

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“SOUNDWAVE NO!”

Arcee woke up suddenly and violently, panting deeply and loudly, groping with her hand on the berth searching frantically for his familiar body next to her.

He onlined slowly, still warm and dreamy he extended his wing half consciously and held her close while she cuddled her head into him and pressed herself into his embrace with all her strength.

~/Hey my spark, it’s all right, I am here with you/~

She still felt the heavy tears gluing her optics and voicebox, while her frenzied spark pulse was almost tearing her chest apart.

~/Don’t ever leave me/~ she uttered in an uneasy bond transmission. ~/Stay with me.../~ she almost whispered, her field trembling in desperation from the terrifying dream.

~/I am here/~ he calmed her down and embraced stronger with all his field, holding her with his wings, braiding one leg with hers and wrapping his tentacles around her delicately extended to all their length so that now she could feel him almost everywhere.

~/I'm with you, I’m not going anywhere, Arcee. Did you have a nightmare?/~

She nodded silently, clutching into him strongly while her frame was still sobbing silently in his warming embrace ~/It was the same… as before… with you trapped in the shadow zone, dying and me waking up alone without you…/~

~/I’m here/~ he stroke her delicately with his fingers while sliding a little tendril of one of his datacables under her armour on her neck caressing delicately her energon veins running just below the thin surface of protoflesh and microhydraulics.

~/Love me Soundwave, please…/~ she uttered as if the dream did not disappear ~/I felt it so strongly, like if I were you, and it was so empty and painful. I’m so afraid, there is something odd with this reality, that everything will disappear.../~

~/I love you Arcee/~ he squeezed her tighter and she finally started feeling their slow surface interaction, and how his datacable tendril stroke her gently around her neck scars left by the fight with Megatron. ~/Come here to me, my spark/~ he kissed her delicately ~/I love you/~

She returned the kiss feeling the tension easing somewhat under his caresses. It was reassuring to feel him again with her, to feel his body and his kisses, and the tendrils of his datacables now embracing her delicately moving slowly towards her main data ports.

~/Love me, please.../~ she whispered again letting the dataports click silently and inviting the tendrils to go inside her, gently connecting to her sensory network, while she relaxed slowly, immersing in that connection which she needed now more than ever, not of any lust but out of fear that was consuming her. But with him all around her finally the delayed feeling of desire started replacing the despair that still lingered somewhere at the back of her RAM from the horrifying dream. She rubbed herself against him softly to feel him better, in and out, to begin to believe stronger and stronger again in what was eventually... real? In that single thread of reality. One in a million. While parallel threads of life passed them by, and he saw them with the corner of his extrasensory vision, the same ones that brought her the nightmare, the same ones that showed the truths they did not want to believe, seeing himself trapped and hungry and empty, watching her through the invisible barrier of the shadow zone, hugging her the same way as he did now, but intangible, on the empty berth, lonely and not feeling him at all. And myriads of other multiple threads wherever she would be, whatever she would do, on Earth or Cybertron, rebuilt in some of those lines of vision, destroyed permanently in other ones… which all he eventually rejected paying for it in scars on the body and the soul, and choices that could not be reversed. He hated that blessing, and he hated how she was now infected with the cursed gift of understanding that she did not need, that nobody ever needed.

And now, when he calmly and reassuringly immersed inside her trying to ease her fear, he saw something new. A little bright light pulsing inside her. The tiniest of tiniest lights, almost indiscernible, attached to her spark, floating now also to him and linking to his own spark all the same. He reached out for it and felt it also within himself. The smallest of living pulses, not his and not hers, but branded with life signatures of them both and their mixed genetic coding.

He vented deeply and held Arcee close to himself hugging her in the strongest of embraces. Then he kissed her again and led her gently to the tiny spark in mute amazement and fascination ~/This is what we are, Arcee... our love... we give life…/~ he whispered cradling her with all his might.

~/This is what matters/~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Call me weak... But I just could not let them go.


End file.
